


It Only Takes a Taste

by Marzos



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Doctor!Laura, F/F, Married!LaFerry, baker!Carmilla, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 107,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzos/pseuds/Marzos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla Karnstein feels trapped in Silas, working at the local diner. A pie contest in the neighboring county is promising money, and a chance at a new life--and Carmilla does make a good pie. But starting over takes a lot more courage than wishing she could. </p><p>Laura Hollis is already starting over--but, unlike Carmilla, that's the last thing she wants to do, least of all in Silas.</p><p>(A Waitress inspired AU, now with less adultery)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! So I thought that this fandom was severely lacking in some multichapter fluff. So here is my disclaimer now: everything is gonna end well and no one is dying. This AU is all about fun and pie. I just fell in love with the score to Waitress (and I'm gonna see it soon, yay) and fell in love with this idea. 
> 
> Happy reading!

Carmilla’s newest recipe: 

Filling made up of 2 cups fresh cranberries, ½ cup of sugar, ½ cup walnuts

Topping made up of ¾ cups softened butter, 2 eggs, 1 cup sugar, 1 cup flour, 1 teaspoon almond extract

Pour cranberries, sugar, and walnuts into a 10 inch pie plate. Cream eggs and butter with a fork and pour mixture over cranberries. 

Bake for 35 minutes at 350 degrees--

“Carmilla!” 

She kicked the oven shut with her foot. “What?” 

Perry peeked over the counter. “As much as I _love_ your pies, we have customers.” 

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Right. Hold on.” 

She jumped over the countertop. “Alright,” she shouted when she landed, grabbing a pot of hot coffee, “everyone who needs coffee, raise your cups!” 

Carmilla walked down the line of booths and tables, expertly topping mugs. When she got to the end of the line, she turned around. She grabbed a pen from behind her ear, and a small notepad from her apron pocket, the papers covered in flour and little crystals of sugar. She marched down the line again. 

“The usual? The usual? The usual? Okay.” 

She wrote them all down, tucking the pencil back behind her ear. Carmilla walked back toward the kitchen to place the order. 

“Hey, Red! Burn the British, put Adam and Eve on a raft, flop two and sweep the floor.” 

Danny looked back at Carmilla from her spot bent over the stove. “Carmilla, is the lingo really necessary? We don’t have to be _that_ stereotypical. I had to look up what you’re saying!”

Carmilla rested her arms on the counter for a moment. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” She asked with a smirk. 

Danny rolled her eyes, and Carmilla turned around. She spotted waving arms by the register and walked over. 

“Ell, what’s your problem?” 

“What do you mean? You have tables on the other side of the restaurant.” 

“I didn’t hear you.” 

“I’ve been shouting for you the past five minutes.” 

Carmilla couldn’t help it; she started laughing. “Ell, it’s the breakfast rush. It’s _loud._ Are you sure you were _shouting?_ Be honest.” 

“...I mean, I raised my voice a _little.”_

Carmilla smiled. “One of these days we need to teach you to raise your voice a little. Thanks, Ell.” 

“Right,” Ell said softly as Carmilla turned around, “I mean-- _right!”_

She dodged Kirsch, sidestepping to the left. 

“Morning, Carm-sexy!” 

“Worry about your tables, busbro,” Carmilla retorted. She slowed down, pulling her hairband out and retightening the ponytail to trap the few strands of hair that had escaped into her eyes. Then she grabbed her notepad and pen again. 

This customer’s eggs were a little too runny. This customer wanted wheat toast, not rye. Could Carmilla please get them a cup of sweet tea? Could Carmilla get them extra napkins? Could they please have the check? 

Carmilla, clean that table. Carmilla, take those glasses. Carmilla, work…

She finally found a moment of peace. Carmilla let herself exhale, looking out at the restaurant with her back against the counter. She took out her notepad again. 

“Carmilla?” 

“Ell, hey,” she said, “just writing down...whatever, I guess.” 

“Recipe?” 

“...Maybe. Yeah.” 

Ell smiled. She hopped onto a stool, resting her hands in her lap. “This wouldn’t happen to be for a _contest,_ would it?” 

Carmilla frowned. “Who says?” 

“That bulge in the breast pocket of your uniform.” 

Before Carmilla could answer Ell reached forward, plucking out the stiff square of paper. 

“Hey!” 

“I _knew it,_ ” Ell answered, unfolding it to reveal it was a pamphlet, “‘Lustig County’s 1st Annual Pie Contest.’” 

Carmilla snatched it back. “So I keep it,” she answered, “a girl can dream.” 

“You make a _really good_ pie, Carmilla,” Ell answered. 

“Please,” Carmilla huffed, “I wouldn’t even know what to do with the money if I _did_ win.” 

“I would be happy to help you,” Ell said, nudging her. Carmilla ignored it. 

“I wouldn’t even know what to make. What kind of pie is worth twenty-five thousand dollars?” 

Ell considered the question seriously for a moment before responding, “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “‘Eloise Abbott Pie?’” 

Carmilla bit her lip and looked down at her notepad. For thirty seconds she scribbled furiously before ripping off the paper and handing it to Ell. 

“What’s this?” 

“Eloise Abbott Pie.” 

She looked at it. “Cinnamon bun. Of course.” 

“What else, Cinnabon? With sort of a streusel kind of thing on top. Liquid cheesecake filling. So sweet your teeth will hurt.” 

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” 

“We’ve been friends since we were kids, Ell.” 

“You know that you need to bake this now, right?” 

“Sure, maybe tom-- _wait._ ” 

Carmilla got up suddenly, running back into the kitchen. She threw the oven door open and--yep, there was her pie. Completely black. She forgot to take it out. 

“Well, _shit._ ” 

***

There was something calming about baking. Carmilla didn’t know _why_ she was so good at it. She hadn’t been raised into it since birth like Perry. Carmilla wasn’t even very good at cooking anything else. But she could carefully lay strips of dough down to make lattice patterns. She could measure ingredients perfectly to the last granule of sugar. Disappointment, bitterness, and apathy were turned, at least until the creation was in the oven, to sugar, butter, and flour. 

Things that made sense. Things that could be molded into anything Carmilla wanted them to be. 

Her life was not so easy. 

She laid the last strip of dough carefully across the top of her creation, throwing it into the oven. Carmilla walked over to the counter again, sitting on one of the stools, taking out her notepad again. 

She had snuck back in after closing, and it was quiet. Carmilla hadn’t even changed out of her uniform, and she unbuttoned the top button to give her some breathing room. 

The pamphlet was in her hand. A pie contest. A cash prize. A new life somewhere else. 

She hadn’t been joking when she told Ell that she _didn’t_ know what she would do with all that money if she won. She knew what she wanted to do. But wanting and doing were two very, very different things.

Still, a girl _could_ dream. 

So she wrote measurements and names and made marks in pen, crossing out, and out, and out, until she tore a hole in the paper. She threw three-pointers into a trash can, a game she had perfected, before tearing into the next sheet. 

“Too sweet,” she mumbled, “too sweet. Maybe no cheesecake? And apples. Apple cinnamon bun…? That’s not creative. Apple cinnamon isn’t going to win shit--” 

There was a _ding_ from the bell above the door that signalled a customer walking in. Carmilla swiveled her chair around. “Uh...hey, boss.” 

Perry stared at Carmilla before, finally, sighing. “Staying to bake again, Carmilla?” 

“A little.” 

“This one better end up on the menu.” 

“If it goes over well, sure. What brings you here?” 

Perry put her hands in the pockets of her high waisted jeans. “It’s my diner.” 

“Don’t you have a newlywed spouse at home…?” 

Perry smiled. “There is no trouble in paradise, Carmilla. I hear what your tone is implying. I forgot my pocketbook in my office.” 

“Good, because I actually like having them around. They mellowed you out. A little.”

Perry went into the back room that served as the office. The oven alarm went off and this time Carmilla was ready, opening the oven door. The smell wafted through the building and when Perry walked out with her purse, she was sniffing the air. 

“That smells _heavenly._ Cranberries?” 

“Yeah.” 

“If you’re using my kitchen, I should try a piece.” 

“I’ll make another one tomorrow,” Carmilla answered immediately, grabbing plastic wrap to throw over it. 

“Really? Saving it for someone special?” 

Carmilla narrowed her eyes at her. “Haha.”

“Well, clean up when you’re done,” Perry answered, “goodnight.” 

Carmilla waited until she was sure Perry wouldn’t see her. Then she grabbed the pie, balanced it in one hand to open the door, and walked out to make her delivery. 

It was a short walk. Everything in Silas was a short walk. She reached the house, stopped on the front porch steps, and looked at the door. 

It was late. Should she ring the doorbell? No. She was sick. Waking up old women in the middle of the night was not a good idea. 

So, Carmilla ripped off one last scrap of notepad paper, scribbled a note hastily, placed the pie on the ground right in front of the door, and went home. 

***

Laura felt uncomfortable walking through the street. She felt out of place. And who wouldn’t feel out of place? It was early morning, but she still felt like a million eyes were watching her. Silas had a population of around 500, according to the guidebook. Laura wasn’t dressed like them, she didn’t move like them, and she had her nose in a map. It was pretty obvious she was Not One of Them. 

When was the last time she visited? Christmas? 

No, Laura realized, she flew out to New York for Christmas. Laura hadn’t been down to Silas since June--almost a year ago. 

And, from what she saw, the town hadn’t changed a bit from what she remembered. She even spotted a raccoon rummaging the same trash can as she walked down the street. 

This was where she was living now--this was home. Laura took a deep breath and got ready to knock on the door and start a new life. 

When she took a step toward the door, her feet stepped in something...sticky. 

“What the--oh, _ugh--_ ” 

She looked down, and then tilted her head curiously. Laura knocked on the door while still looking down. 

It smelled awesome, which made the whole thing even more tragic. Plus, she ruined a perfectly good pair of slacks. 

“Laura? The door is open, hon.” 

Laura bent down, picked the tin up, and opened the door. 

“Hey Gran, I’m here!” She announced, walking inside, “who left the pie…?” 


	2. First Bite

Laura loved her grandmother. She was not only the best grandmother in the world, but also the best _person_ in the world, as far as Laura was concerned. She would do anything for her. Even pack up and move across the country. 

“Laura, I’ll--” 

“Oh, _no,”_ Laura said, running down the hall, “do _not_ move, I’m coming to you.” 

She almost dropped the pie tin running down the hallway, but managed to keep it balanced just enough that she could slide it off her hands to land on the kitchen table. When she saw Mrs. Cochrane, trying to get up off the couch to walk into the kitchen, she walked over and supported her by the elbow. 

“I can walk, honey--” 

“Gran, you have had a stroke,” Laura answered, “having someone help you walk is nothing to be ashamed of. Come on, you want to sit at the table?” 

“Sure. Pie, did you say?” 

“Um,” Laura winced as she helped her walk carefully to the kitchen table, sitting her down in a chair. “Kind of? I stepped in it.” 

She took her glasses off, breathing on them. As she wiped them off, Laura frowned, watching her having some difficulty with her right hand. When she finally managed to get her glasses back on, she wrinkled her nose at the ruined pie. 

“Well, that’s a damn shame,” she said. 

“I _know,_ ” Laura lamented, “I mean, do you smell that? It was probably sitting there all night and it still smells amazing. And now I can’t eat any of it. Although…” 

Laura, without realizing it, copied her grandmother, wrinkling her nose; it looked like Laura was looking into a mirror that made her fifty years older. “...eating random pies you find on your grandmother’s doorstep is probably not wise.” 

“I see how much it hurts you to say that,” she teased, as Laura started to pout a little. 

“Well--we can always fix that,” Laura stood up. “You always made the best pies, Gran. Why don’t you give me directions, and we can try and make another one--” 

“Uh, Laura,” Mrs. Cochrane interrupted, wincing “I hate to tell you this, but...those weren’t _my_ pies.” 

Laura froze, hand on the doorknob of the pantry. She looked back at her. “Wait, _what?”_

“I didn’t realize you thought I--” 

“Of _course_ I did!” Laura exclaimed, “every time Dad and I visit, you always have a pie. Really, _really_ good pie. Grandmothers bake things. It’s like, the rule.” 

“Well, this grandmother bought her pies a day before you were supposed to show up.” 

She turned away from the pantry, crossing her arms in mock indignation. “What else don’t I know? Is Santa Claus not real? Are we really in the Matrix?” 

Mrs. Cochrane only looked at Laura pointedly, until she sighed and sat back down at the table. 

“...I’m sorry,” Laura said, “I barely see you and now that I’m here all I talk about is pie.” 

She reached across the table to take Laura’s hand. “I’m happy you’re here, honey,” she said. 

“And I’m going to be here until you get better,” Laura answered firmly, looking back up, “I promise.” 

The air in the room had started to become somber, so Laura backtracked. “Um...Gran, if you weren’t baking the pies, where were you getting them?” 

“The Silas Diner.” 

“Wow, now I know where I’ll be going to get dessert.” 

“Been a regular customer there for a long time,” she answered, “must have sent over one for me. You should take a look.” 

“But Gran, I just got here! Don’t you want to talk? We need to go over your recovery plan--” 

“Or we can wait until you get me another pie, because staring at this one is making me hungry.” 

Laura licked her lips unconsciously. 

“If you’re sure…” Laura said. 

“You’re already getting up,” Mrs. Cochrane said with a laugh, “just help me back to the couch so I can watch my soap operas. I’ll be fine until you get back.” 

Laura reached a hand out, helping her up again. When they managed to get back to the living room, Laura pulled her in suddenly for a hug, her voice muffled by Mrs. Cochrane’s blouse. 

“I’m sorry it took you getting hurt for me to come,” Laura said. Mrs. Cochrane patted Laura’s back soothingly. 

“It’s _fine._ If you want to make it up to me, you’ll enjoy yourself and bring me back a pie for the trouble.” 

Laura grinned. “Of course!” She exclaimed, giving a mock salute, walking away to change into a pair of pants that hadn’t been ruined by pie filling. 

***

Everything felt strange to Laura. Just _off._ Compared to New York City, Silas felt like it was asleep. Nothing was moving fast enough. Even the heat clung to her uncomfortably, like it took the air longer to circulate. 

The diner had a low, shingled roof. It didn’t look particularly impressive; even the sign just said, in neon letters, _DINER._ Which made sense. It was very...generic. Until Laura stepped inside. 

It was like the fast forward button had been pressed on some cosmic remote. People were running back and forth across the linoleum balancing cups and plates. Laura could hear a sizzling noise from the fryer and a _bang_ as people walked in and out of the kitchen. 

All of that while she was still standing in the doorway. Laura stood still for a moment, taking it all in. She sniffed the air a few times; it smelled greasy, and she made a face. 

“Can I help you?” 

Laura looked to her right. “I’m sorry, what?” 

There was a counter with a cash register and behind it, a young woman. She was smiling at Laura, but she noticed her subtly playing with her fingers. 

“I, um, asked if you needed help? Unless you don’t. Sorry if I bothered you--” 

“Hey, you’re fine,” Laura said, “I’ve never been here before. I could definitely use the help.” 

Her smile widened. “Oh, you’ve never been here before? That’s great! Um...I’m Eloise,” she stepped out from behind the counter. “You can call me Ell. Welcome to the Silas Diner. If you come with me I can get you a table.” 

Laura had to strain to hear her voice above the constant indecipherable clatter and chatter around them. When she did, she nodded. “Sure, go ahead. I’m Laura.” 

Ell gave a half bow before turning around, and Laura followed her. 

“I’ll grab a waitress for you in a sec,” Ell said, “I hope you like it here.” 

“Sure, thank you!” Laura said, sitting down. Ell twisted a strand of blonde hair in her fingers, looking behind her. She found whoever she was looking for, because she walked away briskly. 

Laura was distracted from looking at who she was walking toward by the wall. On the other side of the diner in big, cursive lettering, all black, were the words _Southern Hospitality Since 1946_. There were pictures frames around it, but Laura was too far away to make anything out besides the fact there were people in the photos. 

1946\. It made sense. Everything in the diner looked like it was from 1946. 

Laura tried to settle back in the uncomfortable booth. She saw someone walking toward her--she assumed it was her waitress. She was right. 

“I’m Carmilla, I’ll be your waitress.” 

She looked entirely unenthusiastic about the prospect.

“Welcome to the Silas diner,” she recited, handing Laura a menu, “our breakfast special isn’t on the menu. It’s maple grits with a pecan streusel.” 

“That sounds good,” Laura said, “I’ve never had grits before, I’d love to try it.” 

“Mm-hm,” Carmilla answered, looking down at her notepad, “I can tell from your accent that you’ve never had grits, sweetheart.” 

Laura covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, before removing it and frowning. She could handle teasing, but her tone was a little too sharp. “And--and I can tell from yours that you have!” 

“If that was supposed to be a comeback, it wasn’t a very good one,” Carmilla answered, “I’m going to go put your order in and I’ll be back.” 

“Well, she’s obviously having a bad day,” Laura mumbled. Or she was just always a jerk. She couldn’t imagine Carmilla getting a lot of tips. 

“Alright,” Carmilla continued when she came back, “what’ll you have to drink?” 

“Um…I’ll just have a glass of chocolate milk,” Laura said, closing her menu to hand to her. Carmilla raised an eyebrow, which Laura took note of. “What?” 

“Chocolate milk?” 

“Yes. With a straw. Is there a problem?” 

“Not at all,” Carmilla said and, because she couldn’t help herself, added, “I just didn’t realize you needed a children’s menu.” 

Laura couldn’t help it. She gaped at her. “That is--you are not--plenty of adults drink chocolate milk!” 

Carmilla flashed a toothy grin. “Not around here, they don’t.” 

“Well, I happen to _live here_ now, thank you very much, so apparently they _do._ ” 

“And how long have you been ‘living here?’” 

“...Since this morning, but that’s not the--” 

“Wow, you’re practically a native.” 

Laura sat up a little straighter. “I will have you know that I am a _doctor._ ” 

She hated that Carmilla looked so _amused._ “My condolences.” 

“Condolences?” 

“Being a doctor seems pretty terrible. Long hours, perpetually bad handwriting, and doctors are pretty damn serious. None of you can take a joke.”

“That isn’t funny, you know,” Laura answered. 

“See, there it is. Can’t take a joke.” 

Laura glared at her. “Okay, here’s a joke. I want to see whoever is your boss.” 

Carmilla’s smile disappeared immediately. 

“Wow. Throwing a temper tantrum. Totally makes you seem like an adult.” 

“I want to see your superior.” 

_“‘Your superior,”_ Carmilla mimicked Laura’s voice (and she may not have traveled much, but she was sure her accent was _not_ that thick), but she walked away, disappearing through the double doors that Laura assumed led to the kitchen. She sat back with a huff. 

“Jerk of a waitress,” Laura grumbled to herself. 

A woman walked out briskly. Her hair was a thick mass of red coils, pulled back with a blue polka dotted bandana. She stopped in front of Laura, placing her bowl of maple grits down in front of her. 

“Hello! My name is Lola Perry, and I’m the owner of this establishment. You had a problem with your waitress?” 

“Yes. She was really rude to me. I’m pretty sure she implied I was a five year old and then insulted my profession.” 

“Well, we do not tolerate that,” she answered, nodding, “if you’d like to give us another chance, I can offer you something on the house. A slice of pie? Baked goods are our specialty here.” 

Laura felt kind of guilty. She looked _really_ frazzled. One sleeve was pulled up to her elbow, and there looked like a mark of pie filling still on her cheek. 

“It’s really okay,” Laura said, anger ebbing, “pie would be great. My grandmother says that you guys make the best pies.” 

“Oh, your grandmother lives here, sweetie? You don’t sound like you’re from around here.” 

“Your waitress and I have been over that,” Laura answered wearily, “yeah, my grandma just had a stroke. I’m helping her with rehabilitation over the summer.”

There was a look of realization that crossed her face. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Laura, would it?” 

“Yeah, it would.” 

“Oh my God, hello! Please, call me Perry.” 

Perry shook Laura’s hand, and Laura for her part let her, in a slight state of shock. 

“Um, sure Perry, and you know my grandmother…?” 

“Of course I do. Lizzie Cochrane was our best customer--in fact, come over here. If you don’t mind?” 

Perry was smiling with anticipation, and Laura didn’t have the heart to say no--and, then again, Laura wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. Curiosity made her get up and follow her across the diner, to the wall with the hung picture frames. 

“See him? That’s my grandpa. Jonathan Perry. That’s my grandma, Marie. Sitting right in front of the diner the day they bought it.” 

“Wow. That’s cool.” 

“And _that,_ ” Perry pointed, “is their best friend. I can’t believe I didn’t notice as soon as I walked up to your table. She looks just like you!” 

Laura looked and, sure enough, there was Gran. A much younger Gran with her arm around Grandpa Charlie, standing next to Perry’s grandparents. 

“She worked there, and after she retired she came in every single day,” Perry continued, “I absolutely love her. She’s a terrific woman. And oh! There’s your mother.” 

Laura had seen her mother approximately a handful of times in her life. All in pictures. And never any of her when she was young. But there she was, smiling with five candles sticking out of a pumpkin pie. 

“...Wow,” Laura breathed, “I had no idea my family has such a...history with this place.” 

“That’s too bad. Well,” she looked away from the pictures, smiling at Laura. “I’d like to keep the tradition alive, if you don’t mind, so let’s get you that pie to keep you in our good graces. Go sit at the counter?”

“My, um, grits though--” 

“I’ll get that for you!” Perry answered, scurrying away. Laura took her seat at the counter. There was another redhead, wiping it down with a rag. 

“So I saw that exchange. Nice to meet you.” 

“Um, hi. You work here?” 

“LaFontaine. They, them pronouns. Perry is my wife. Since about...a month ago, I’d say?” 

LaFontaine reached a hand out and shook Laura’s warmly. 

“Wow, everyone but that waitress is so friendly here!” 

“Let me guess, Carmilla?” 

Laura only nodded, and LaFontaine laughed. 

“Yeah, tourists tend to hate her. You get used to the attitude after a while.” 

“Well, I don’t want to get used to it,” Laura huffed, “just give me...I don’t know, whatever pie is your favorite, I guess?” 

LaFontaine grinned. “With pleasure. Coming right up!” 

They disappeared into the back and returned with a dish. The pie filling glistened in the harsh light of the diner, and Laura licked her lips. 

“Deep dish blueberry bacon,” LaFontaine said, placing it down in front of Laura with a fork, “we call it Sweet Sinner Pie.” 

LaFontaine moved to another customer at the other end of the counter as Laura took a bite. And another. And another. 

“Sorry, got sidetracked!” Perry exclaimed, “here is your grits--” 

“Forget the grits,” Laura said around bites of pie, “get me another one of _this._ ”

Perry smiled. “You liked it then?” 

“Like it? This is the best thing I have ever eaten. If I were to die right now, Heaven would be me sitting at a buffet table, with nothing but _this pie_ as far as the eye can see.” 

Perry’s grin widened. “I’ll get you the check then for those grits.” 

“And one for another slice of this pie.” 

She ordered another and ate that. Then she ate the grits--she bought them, she had to--and they were good, but not even close to the pie. She licked the remnants of crust off of her fingers and Perry came back with her bill. 

“And come back any time, Laura. You’re always welcome! Tell Mrs. Cochrane we miss her around here!” 

“Will do!” Laura gave a quick salute before walking over to the cash register. 

“Thanks,” Ell said, grabbing Laura’s credit card, “you like it?” 

“This was the best moment of my life. That pie...it was like I found my purpose in life. Which was to keep eating that pie.”

Ell laughed. “Come back for more then.” 

“I will! Nice to meet you Ell, hope I do again.” 

Ell handed back the credit card, waved at Laura shyly, and she walked out the door. 

***

“But chocolate milk _isn’t_ a northern thing, is it?” 

Carmilla shrugged. “Of _course_ it isn’t,” she answered, uncapping her bottle, “I was messing with her. She couldn’t take a joke.” 

Ell swung her legs slightly. She was sitting on the countertop. After closing a lot of the staff would stay behind for a bit to relax. They all stayed in the back. Ell stayed out front with Carmilla. 

“I thought Laura was nice,” Ell answered politely. 

“You should have heard her, Ell. With that thick as molasses accent, talking about how she was going to be a _doctor._ She said it like that. A _doctor._ Like she was better than some small town waitress and I better treat her like it.” 

“It’s food service, Carm. You have to treat your customers like they’re better than you.” 

“Doesn’t mean they have to act like it. And then she gets me in trouble! Perry gave me an earful. I didn’t treat her any differently than I treat all my other customers, and they all love me. I got the tips to prove it.” 

“Carmilla,” Ell said gently, “we barely ever get new customers. They all _know_ you. But you know, as far as first impressions go…” 

Carmilla wasn’t paying attention. She closed her eyes and hopped onto a stool. “Wait, Ell,” she said, raising a hand, “I’m thinking of a recipe for a new pie.” 

“What?” 

“Lizzie Cochrane’s Goddamn Annoying Granddaughter Pie. New York Cheesecake--of course--with grated orange zest. Because she’s grating.” 

Ell tilted her head to the side. “That sounds delicious, but I don’t think we can write that on the menu board.” 

“How about ‘Annoying Granddaughter Pie?’” 

“That might slide past the censors.” 

Carmilla smiled. She raised her beer bottle. “Well, cheers.” She took a swig. Ell took a sniff of hers and then tentatively sipped it. 

“...But she can’t be bad,” Ell continued, “she was very nice to me. And she stayed to take care of Mrs. Cochrane. You got to at least appreciate that, she’s been a grandmother to all of us since we were kids.” 

Carmilla remembered. Mrs. Cochrane was a sweet old woman. Tipped well. That was why she made her a pie--even if it did probably get eaten by a raccoon…

“Yeah, well, no one has _no_ flaws.” 

“Her accent was pretty thick though, wasn’t it?” Ell mused. “Do you think ours is as bad?” 

“If it is, God help us if we ever decide to leave.” 

“She’s from New York,” Ell continued, “the big city too, probably. Maybe she’ll tell us about it.” 

“You, maybe.” 

“Just me,” Ell agreed, “and hey, maybe I’ll tell you after, since _you’re_ the one always talkin’ about running away.” 

Carmilla didn’t answer. She only sipped her beer, looking out the big glass windows.

Annoying Granddaughter Pie. It’d make a great special. 


	3. Return of the Yankee

The first thing Laura did when she walked back to the house was to grab a fork from the utensil drawer and place her slice of pie on the coffee table.

“I see you took my advice and went to the diner, dear.”

“Yep!” Laura said, sitting down on an armchair, “it was really, really good.”

Mrs. Cochrane grabbed the plate, and the fork; she had some trouble gripping her fork, switching it to her left hand and balancing the plate in her lap.

“You know, the bright spot of all of this is that I’m going to be ambidextrous now.”

“That’s the spirit, Gran,” Laura answered politely. She watched her eating for a moment before she added, “you know...someone at the diner said hello. Lola Perry?”

Mrs. Cochrane paused mid-chew and swallowed. “Oh, Perry? She is such a sweetheart! I’ve known her since she was a baby, you know.”

“And her parents, apparently.”

“Charlie and I were good friends with her grandparents. In fact--ha,” she smiled, “I remember all the playdates Eileen had with Perry’s father. We joked that they were gonna get married before your father came around and stole her--is something wrong?”

Laura was frowning, brow furrowed.

“Why do I not know any of this?”

“What, the diner?”

“You were best friends with the owners, my mom spent so much time in the place they have a picture of her on the wall. Perry was talking about you like she was your granddaughter. I mean...yeah, I’m surprised it never came up.”

“Laura, you’ve only visited me with your father once.”

“That can’t be--” She stopped. As she wracked her brain, she had to admit, she couldn’t remember more than the visit she took with Dad last year. Gran always flew in to see them. “--well, why does that matter…?”

“He hates being reminded of Eileen, and I guess I can’t blame him, it must be so painful...but he was so on edge the entire time you were here, afraid I’d bring anything that had to do with her up. I didn’t think it was worth the trouble. Besides, it’s a diner. I wasn’t leaving you out of a grand family legacy, Laura.”

Laura had no reason to care, not really. But seeing that picture of her mother on the wall had made her feel...strange. She’d never met her mother. She had nothing to remember of her. Even as a child, she sensed the hesitance her dad had whenever the subject was even hinted at. But now, here Laura was. In her hometown. With a whole history and ghosts of her mother’s childhood to explore. The revelation was making the idea of spending a summer in Silas a little more interesting.

“Right. Of course. The service could have been better though. The waitress was total raging jerk.”

“Oh, you must mean Carmilla,” Mrs. Cochrane answered cheerily.

“You know her?”

“I absolutely love that girl.”

Laura made a disgusted face. “How can you like her? She was an absolute jerk. You know what she said to me? I ordered chocolate milk and she asked me if I wanted a children’s menu!”

Mrs. Cochrane laughed.

“It isn’t funny!”

“Who orders chocolate milk for breakfast, Laura?”

“That doesn’t give her the right--I mean-- _and_ she made fun of my accent! It isn’t my fault!”

“Laura, I can barely understand you when you get worked up,” Mrs. Cochrane said gently. Laura covered her mouth, blushing slightly.

“I--I said she made fun of my accent. She’s a _jerk._ ”

“I never said she wasn’t a jerk. I said I loved her. She’s a big deal around here, Carmilla Karnstein.”

“Why, because everyone hates her?”

“I certainly don’t. She’s a riot.”

Laura huffed but, realizing that her grandmother was about as stubborn as her if not more, decided that it would be better to just grab her own fork and steal another taste of the pie.

***

After Laura drove Mrs. Cochrane to physical therapy, she went back to the Silas Diner.

She looked to her right and saw Ell in the same spot she was before, head bowed and scribbling on something.

“Um, Ell?”

“Hm…? Oh! Sorry, Laura,” Ell said, “hold on a second.”

She folded the paper carefully, slipping it into the pocket of her uniform. Laura smiled, rocking back and forth on her heels while she waited.

“Do you want a counter seat?” She asked. Laura agreed. There was another waitress behind the counter she hadn’t seen yet.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm? Oh, hey, you look new. I’m Betty.” She leaned on the counter. “You the Annoying Granddaughter?”

“‘Annoying Granddaughter?’”

The waitress motioned with her head and Laura followed with her eyes. There was a menu board that said in large letters: ‘TODAY’S SPECIAL: ANNOYING GRANDDAUGHTER PIE. NEW YORK CHEESECAKE WITH LEMON AND ORANGE ZEST.

“Oh. My. _God._ ”

Betty laughed. “That _is_ you, isn’t it?”

“Lizzie Cochrane is my grandma.”

“That explains it.”

“I am so mad right now, you have no idea! _No. Idea.”_

Betty looked unimpressed; she popped the gum she was chewing. “You want a slice?”

“...I’ll try one, sure.”

It wasn’t often that Laura had a pie named after her, offensive or not, and she did love cheesecake.

“No prob.”

“Hey, Betty!”

“Yo, Carmilla! How’d you enjoy my day off?” Betty turned, grabbed the display case with the pies, and handed Laura her slice on a plate.

“The peace and quiet was refreshing.” Carmilla walked past Betty, high-fiving her after wiping her hands on the front of her apron. She turned around when she saw Laura.

“Ooooh, hey Yankee. Back so soon?”

“Leave me alone, I’m being served,” Laura grumbled.

“Nuh-uh, I’d rather watch you take your first bite. I named that pie, you know.”

“I had a feeling.”

“Made it myself, too.”

“Oh, really?” Laura pushed the plate away. “I’m starting to rethink eating it, then.”

“Come on, it’s not like I poisoned it. Who knows, you might--” Carmilla made a mock gasp, “ _like_ it.”

“If _you_ made it? Hardly.” Laura stuck her fork in and tentatively took a bite. It was creamy. It was rich. It had the perfect balance of sweetness and tartness from the zest. It was, in short, perfection.

“Well?” Carmilla asked, raising an eyebrow as Laura tried not to moan at the taste.

“I don’t know,” she answered, swallowing, “I guess it’s _decent,_ but you know New York Cheesecake was invented where I live, right? It’s definitely no Juniors.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “That’s funny, because you polished it off pretty quick.”

Laura looked down at her plate. She hadn’t even realized she’d finished the entire thing. “Well, even mediocre cheesecake tastes awesome!” She exclaimed.

“ _Sure._ Got to go to work. Unfortunately for you, I wasn’t fired. See you later, Yankee Doodle.”

She turned sharply and walked away. Laura ground her teeth.

“ _How_ is she in customer service?”

Betty shrugged. “She’s pretty hot.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she gets to be--”

“No, no, no, _no!”_

The doors to the back of the diner slammed as Perry charged out, fists balled tightly at her sides. LaFontaine followed a few moments after.

“Perry, calm down--”

“I will _not_ calm down. How many times does that man need to call before he understands what ‘no’ means?”

Perry finally stopped, breathing heavily. LaFontaine put their hands on her shoulders.

“It’s annoying Perr Bear, I know, but it’s not that big of a deal. Bigger picture here?”

She relaxed slightly. “It’s insulting,” she grumbled, “really insulting. This is practically my _home,_ for him to insist he can put a price on it is--” Perry stopped, gaining enough control over herself to realize that customers heard her outburst. Laura saw her look at Ell for a moment, a look that made Ell scrunch up her shoulders and focus on counting money in the register. Then she sighed and went behind the counter. Betty waved goodbye to Laura.

“Laura, hello. I’m sorry for getting a bit worked up like that. Can I get you anything?”

“Um...another piece of pie?”

“What kind?”

Laura saw LaFontaine looking at Perry with worry. Laura thought she’d attempt to cheer her up. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

Perry smiled. “Oh! You know what that reminds me of? We just added a new pie to the menu. It’s named after Mrs. Cochrane.”

“Seriously? Sure, I’d love to try it!”

Wow. A pie named after her and her grandmother. They were practically celebrities. Perry turned to the display case behind her and brought out a slice of pie. Laura thought it looked familiar. It certainly smelled familiar.

“It’s called Cochranberry pie,” Perry explained, “it has cranberries, see? I thought the name was amusing…”

Laura’s eyes widened when she hit on why the pie seemed so familiar.

“Wait, that was _you?”_

“Huh?”

“I stepped in this pie yesterday morning!”

Perry looked confused, so she clarified, “there was a cranberry pie on Gran’s porch. I stepped in it. It looked just like this! You made it, didn’t you? That was really nice--”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Laura.”

“If you didn’t do it, who did?”

Perry pursed her lips. “One of our waitresses did stay after closing to bake.”

“Who?”

Perry looked in the direction of her and when Laura followed her gaze, her jaw dropped.

“ _Carmilla?”_

“Yes. All the recipes come from her...she really is a genius at baking.”

Laura remembered what her grandmother had said. That she absolutely _loved_ Carmilla. But still. She didn’t know Carmilla very well, but she did not seem like the type to deliver pies to the elderly.

“She bakes _all_ the pies?”

“For the most part, yes.”

Laura tried to imagine Carmilla cheerily stirring ingredients in a bowl. Currently she was looking around the diner with a scowl. Laura looked away before Carmilla noticed her watching. Out of the corner of her eye, Laura saw Ell walk over to sit on the stool next to her.

“Ell, hey.”

“Hi. I’m taking my break,” Ell answered softly, not making eye contact. Laura tilted her head.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

“I know. I mean, sorry. I don’t talk that much. Unless it’s for my job. Um, Perry--” Perry looked at her. “Can I have a lemonade…? Or, I mean, I guess it’s weird to ask your boss to serve you, so you don’t--”

“Here.”

Perry already had the glass in front of her. “But I want you back at the register as soon as you’re done drinking that.”

“Right.”

Ell took a sip. Perry walked to the other end of the counter to talk to other customers.

“Hey, Ell…?”

“Hm?”

“So, Carmilla bakes _all_ the pies?”

Ell looked at her. “She sure does.”

“Was she good friends with my Gran?”

“Um,” she frowned, “define ‘friend.’”

“Maybe you should explain why you need me to define it.”

Ell stirred her drink with her straw. “Mrs. Cochrane always sat in Carmilla’s section. So they would talk. And she would _rave_ about her pies. Carmilla liked that.”

“She has an ego, doesn’t she?”

“She’s my best friend,” Ell answered.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“...A little. But only because she earned it. She’s the most talented person I know.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Sure. She earned the right to be a jerk.”

“She _isn’t_ a jerk,” Ell said, a little more forcefully, “she’s just--I mean--you need to know her.”

“Well, she’s a jerk compared to everyone else I talked to. You’re really nice.”

Ell shrugged. “Um. Thank you.”

The conversation trailed off and Laura went back to her pie. She finished and was about to ask for another when Ell said:

“So. Do you like it here?”

“You mean Silas?”

“Sure.”

It was Laura’s turn to shrug. “I mean, so far everyone has been really nice, I guess, but...I don’t know. I don’t really know anyone. I miss my friends back home.”

Ell ran a hand through her hair. “...You could hang out with us after closing, you know.”

Laura raised an eyebrow quizzically. “After closing?”

“We all stay after closing sometimes. I bet everyone would really like you.”

She looked really, genuinely sincere. Laura thought it was kind of strange, to hang out at a diner after hours when she didn’t even work there, but Ell was being nice and Laura had nothing better to do anyway.

“Alright, sure.”

“Great! I have to go back to work,” Ell got up, “but come back at eleven!”

She almost tripped, walking backwards as she waved goodbye, but Ell caught herself and turned around. Laura gave a little wave back, and waited for someone to hand her a check.

***

Closing at eleven didn’t necessarily mean they were done at eleven. There was cleaning up to do, and Carmilla and Ell ended up doing most of it.

“Betty, can you stop filing your nails for _two seconds_ and wipe your damn table?” Carmilla snapped. Betty looked up from her stool.

“Hey, I just painted them!” She answered defensively.

“Wash dishes then.”

“That is disgusting. I am not stooping so low as to wash dishes.”

“Betty, you’re not being nice. Plenty of nice people _do_ wash dishes,” Ell said wearily, walking past her with a rag and cleaning spray, “can you please do _something?_ Laura will be here any second--”

“Whoa, _whoa,_ ” Carmilla stopped, glaring at Ell. “What the Hell do you mean, ‘Laura will be here?’”

“I didn’t tell you? I invited her to meet everyone--”

“Oh please, you’re a terrible liar Ell. You didn’t tell me on _purpose._ ”

Ell sprayed the counter and rubbed her cloth across it in circles. “Okay, so maybe that’s true. So what? _This_ reaction is exactly _why_.”

Betty whistled. “I don’t know why Carmilla should be pissed. She was pretty cute.”

“ _Ew,_ ” Carmilla made a face. “Please tell me you are not trying to ask her out.”

“This is a pretty terrible idea for a first date,” Betty agreed.

“ _No,_ I don’t have a crush on her,” Ell said, exasperated. Carmilla left her table to lean over the counter.

“You _sure?”_

Ell leaned over the counter as well. “When you’re setting the standard for people I hang out with? Of _course_ not.”

Carmilla laughed and turned away. “You’re damn right. So what’s the catch then?”

“That she seems nice? We’re friends. I think. Or as close to friends as you can be to someone you’ve talked to twice.” Ell hopped onto the counter, crossing her legs. “Plus, Carmilla, have you really looked at her when she’s at the diner? Just sits by herself alone and shovels pie into her mouth. She’s lonely. I thought maybe she could use some friends.”

Carmilla huffed. “So you’re going to force her to be our friend?”

“Speak for yourself, I’m willing to give her a shot,” Betty answered.

“Carmilla,” Ell said patiently, “how would you feel if tomorrow you packed up and moved to New York City? You wouldn’t wish there was someone that would help you?”

“Sure, but I also wouldn’t expect anyone to. Besides, I’d be more happy that I got out of this place...”

“She didn’t expect me to, I asked her,” Ell answered, “Laura is my _friend,_ and you better--”

The door dinged and the three of them looked toward it.

“Uh, you weren’t kidding when you asked me to show up, right?”

“No, I was not,” Ell said firmly. She looked at Carmilla. “And we are _all_ happy to meet you, Laura.”

Laura looked at Carmilla hesitantly. Carmilla, deciding to do Ell a favor, raised her hand as a greeting. Laura looked at Ell and smiled.

“Great! Thanks for offering to introduce me to people, Ell,” Laura closed the door and walked over to the counter, “and the offer to eat leftover pie. Hey,” Laura turned to Betty and held out her hand. “Laura Hollis. I know we met before but I figure we should make it formal?”

Betty shook Laura’s hand and mouthed to Carmilla, _I like her._ Carmilla shook her head.

“And you,” Laura looked at Carmilla, “I will try not to strangle you.”

“Likewise, Yankee Doodle.”

“Where is everyone else?” Laura asked, looking away from Carmilla, “I mean, is it just you guys?”

“No,” Ell answered, “we’re kind of...separate from the kitchen staff most of the time.”

“We’re cooler,” Carmilla added.

“But they’re by the sink back there, you can see through the window,” Betty continued, “so you can meet them too if you want.”

“I will.”

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly. Laura cleared her throat.

“So! I thought I should bring something since I’m kind of a guest,” Laura held up a plastic bag she’d been holding, “so I went to the liquor store before I came here. It’s whiskey?”

“Ooooooh,” Betty grabbed the bag, “I like the way you think! You are officially Betty Spielsdorf approved.”

“Thanks!”

Betty grabbed the bag and was about to open the bottle when Carmilla grabbed it from her hands.

“Hey!”

“Guys,” Carmilla answered, “this is whiskey?”

“Yes?” Laura answered. Carmilla grinned at Ell.

“Ell, grab my notepad, I left it on the table I was cleaning.”

Ell did what Carmilla wanted.

“Take notes for me.” Carmilla opened the bottle and took a sniff, then a sip.

“Seriously, you had to put your mouth all over it? That’s so unsanitary!”

“Shut up, Creampuff. I’m thinking. Ell, write this down. Light brown sugar, all purpose flour, cinnamon...and…” She took another sip, partially to watch Laura look personally offended. “...Tart apples. Nutmeg and clove. Pecans, but put a question mark next to that one.”

“Done, done, and _done,_ ” Ell said, ripping off the piece of paper and handing it to Carmilla. She turned toward the kitchen.

“I got an idea for a special,” Carmilla said, “and I don’t feel like waiting. You want to meet the kitchen staff? You can follow me.”

“You’re going to bake a pie right _now?”_ Laura asked, getting up.

“It is never a bad time for pie.”

“So we’re going to waste all the whiskey?”

“ _Relax,_ Betty,” Carmilla said, holding open the door, “it’ll only be a couple of tablespoons. Besides, I’d hardly call this a waste.”

She threw the door to the kitchen open. “After you.”

Ell and Betty walked into the kitchen. When Laura did, she stopped in the doorway.

“Do you always bake pies for guests?” Laura asked, “even the ones you don’t like?”

“I heard you were a fan of my baking. And I _love_ to show off. Especially for the ones I don’t like.”

Laura blushed, huffed, and turned her back to Carmilla to follow Ell and Betty. Carmilla smirked, took one more sip, licked her lips, and got ready to bake.


	4. Drunk Apple Pie

The kitchen was a small, crowded space. Laura shrunk in on herself automatically when she walked in and saw all of the fryers, grills, and prep station pressed close to each other. Carmilla strolled past her. 

“Hey, Red, can your little crew stop for a second?” Carmilla asked. 

“Call me Danny, Carmilla,” she turned around, long red hair bundled up in a net. She grabbed the hair net, pulling it off and shaking her hair down in thick, red waves. 

Laura subtly sucked in a breath. 

“Only if you get Kirsch to stop calling me Carm-sexy,” Carmilla answered, looking at Kirsch. He turned around and smiled at Carmilla. 

“‘Sup! Who’s the new hottie?” Kirsch waved at Laura; his arms and hands were red from the heat of the hot water he was using to wash the dishes. 

“I’m gay,” Laura answered immediately. 

“Won’t stop him from calling you hottie,” Carmilla said, “trust me, Danny and I tried.” 

“Everyone,” Ell said politely, “this is Laura. She’s Mrs. Cochrane’s granddaughter and new to town.” 

“Hey Laura,” Danny said, holding out her hand, “Danny Lawrence. The girl that should _stop eating the apples and clean_ is Elsie. She’s the other cook.” 

“I was admiring the way it catches the fluorescent lighting!” Elsie answered defensively. Carmilla pushed past all of them. 

“Move over, I need those apples,” Carmilla said. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Showing the new girl how Carmilla Karnstein makes a pie.” 

“Dude, she’s making a pie!” Kirsch exclaimed, “now it’s a party!” 

Betty hung back with Ell and Laura. “You ever wonder what it says about your hometown when you walk in with a bottle of whiskey and the _pie_ is what the local frat boy is focused on?” 

Laura shrugged. She watched Carmilla grab the apples, placing them on the prep counter. “Guys, I am about to unveil tomorrow’s special--” 

“Guys, why are you not working?” 

There was another door in the corner of the kitchen, and Perry stood in the doorway, LaFontaine looking over her shoulder. She held the door open with one hand, her other hand on her hip. 

“Carmilla is baking a pie,” Ell said. 

“...What kind of pie, Carmilla?” 

“Whiskey cinnamon apple pie,” Carmilla answered, getting the ingredients out. 

Perry licked her lips. “Really?” 

“If you stay you can totally try a piece when she’s done!” Kirsch suggested. 

“Well--” 

“Perr, what about going _home?”_ LaFontaine protested, “you know, home, to our bed? Where we can sleep?” 

“I know LaF, but she is making it fresh, and I need to approve it before it ends up on the menu…” 

LaFontaine sighed. They maneuvered past Perry and looked at Carmilla. “You’re going to use all of that?” 

“Just two tablespoons,” Carmilla answered, focused on pouring the exact amount of sugar she needed. With all the ingredients measured out, she grabbed a wooden spoon--without actually looking, just reaching behind her--and began stirring. 

“Make sure I get some and we’re good.” 

“Noted,” Carmilla answered. She was working at a lightning fast pace. Laura couldn’t even tell what she was doing until she slowed down to meticulously place apple slices neatly within the pie crust. It was apparently a big deal to see her work, because everyone was watching like they were at a sporting even. “Just let me roll out this pie dough...alright.” 

With the top of the pie placed securely on, Carmilla opened the oven door and pushed the pie tin inside. “That’ll be thirty five minutes at three fifty.” 

“So…?” 

“So what, Betty?” 

“You finished, now give us the goods!” 

Carmilla looked at the bottle of whiskey. “What, that?” 

“Yes, _that._ We have half an hour to kill. Let’s drink!” 

“Oh dear, everyone, I’m not sure--” 

“Come _on,_ Perry,” Elsie interrupted, grabbing the bottle and some glasses, “it’s after closing, it’s not like we’ll be drunk tomorrow during our shift.” 

LaFontaine smiled at Perry and shrugged. “We’ll make them clean up afterward.” 

“...Well, okay.” 

“ _Finally!”_ Betty grabbed the bottle and started pouring everyone a glass. Ell smiled sheepishly at Laura. 

“Betty likes to have a good time,” Ell said apologetically. Betty handed out the glasses; Laura took a sip and smacked her lips. 

“Don’t sound sorry. This is nice!” 

A wicked grin spread across Carmilla’s face. “Wait a sec guys, we have a guest.” 

“Oh, hey, that’s right.” Danny raised her hand in a toast. “To Laura!” 

“That’s not what I meant.” She walked past Betty, plucking the bottle out of her hand again. “She doesn’t even work here. If she wants to stick around I think we need to have an _initiation.”_

“Ooooh, I think I see where this is going,” Betty answered, “how much do you want her to drink?” 

“Wait, wait, how much _do_ you want me to drink?” Laura repeated, eyeing Carmilla suspiciously. 

“As much as you can stand.” 

“Carmilla Karnstein, that is not going to happen!” Perry exclaimed, horrified. 

“If Yankee Doodle can’t hold her liquor, she’s free to say no.” 

Laura’s jaw dropped. “I have held _plenty_ of liquor in my day, _thank you._ ” 

“Oh, they have insane parties at med school, huh?” 

“You’d be surprised,” Laura shot back. They were talking to each other over the table in the middle of the kitchen. Carmilla put her hands on it. Everyone else was watching them volley back and forth. 

“Sure. But I think your idea of drinking and _our_ idea are pretty different.” 

“Not true! I bet I can finish that bottle.”

Carmilla leaned in closer to Laura and stated, “ _prove_ it, Yankee.” 

Laura grabbed the bottle. “Fine! Watch _this._ ” She opened the bottle of whiskey and tipped it over her mouth. 

“Stop that right now!” Perry shouted, “I mean it! I will not have anyone die of alcohol poisoning in my diner! Tell her, LaF-- _LaFontaine?”_

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” They started up a chant, and the rest of the group joined in. Laura had to stop to catch her breath, coughing and sputtering. 

“What, Yankee?” Carmilla asked, laughing, “giving up?” 

“No, I am _not--”_ Laura choked out, swallowing to try and remove the burning sting. 

“ _Yes,_ you are,” Ell interrupted, grabbing the bottle, “I am cutting you off, that was really impressive Laura, thank you.” 

“Let me try the rest!” Kirsch exclaimed.

“One drunk person is _enough!”_ Perry shouted, throwing up her hands. “Here is what we are going to do. We are going to sit in the front and not drink _any more._ And as soon as this pie is finished, we will eat it, and we will all _go home._ We are certainly not encouraging this behavior!” 

Everyone looked mildly chastised, and LaFontaine smiled at Perry sheepishly. Laura held her head. 

“Uh, yeah...we should probably...yeah, I think I need to sit down.” 

Betty patted Laura’s back soothingly. “Let’s get you in a booth, come on.” 

“Thanks Ell... _wow,_ I haven’t done anything like that since freshman year…” 

“Well, you definitely proved you can hang,” Betty answered, “come on.” 

Danny whistled. “Wow, Carmilla, that was particularly asshole-ish of you.” 

“I try. You going to help the rest of us finish this off, or what?” 

Danny frowned, but grabbed a handful of glasses with Elsie. 

***

Ell was pouting by herself in the corner when Carmilla sat down next to her, handing her a glass of whiskey. “Here you go, Cinnabon.” 

“You’re ignoring what Perry said,” Ell mumbled. 

“We’re not going to get drunk. We’ve got about,” Carmilla pretended to check her watch, “...five minutes ‘till my pie is done. And you’ve been sulking in the corner since we moved this get together out of the kitchen. I thought this girl was _your_ friend.” 

“She _is_ my friend.” 

“You should be thanking me. I goaded her into being awesome.” 

Across the diner, they could both hear Laura drunkenly singing with the rest of the group. Ell looked over at her. 

“You made fun of her so she would take your bait and get drunk. That’s terrible.” 

“Is she driving home?” 

“...No.” 

“Did I force her to monumentally overreact to my teasing by trying to give herself alcohol poisoning?” 

“Well, no--” 

“So, the only thing that happened was that she got really hotheaded and gave herself a killer hangover.” 

“It was still mean!” Ell protested. Carmilla laughed. “I’m serious. She’s never going to come back _now._ ” 

“Why is that a bad thing, again?” Carmilla asked, observing her nails. 

Ell looked like she was about to yell before she pulled herself back. “...Carmilla, I just liked the idea of having a friend besides _you,_ okay?” 

Carmilla frowned. “Betty likes you.” 

“She’s more your friend than mine.” 

“No one _hates_ you, Ell--” 

“No, but they also don’t want to talk to me. And Perry is always mad at me because I won’t take sides--and can you blame me? I’m caught in the middle of _everything_ and it’s not fair, so excuse me for wanting to make other friends--” 

“Alright, _alright._ I am sorry. I promise not to persuade Laura to juggle chainsaws or something equally dangerous in the future, okay?” 

“Okay.” Ell nodded curtly. “ _And_ you need to walk Laura home.” 

Carmilla placed her glass on the table so fast that a few droplets of liquid splashed out. “The _fuck?”_

“This is your fault, and you are making sure she gets home safe.” 

“You are such a little shit.” 

“I am the average of the people I hang out with the most, which are you and Betty,” Ell answered, “your problem.” 

It was Carmilla’s turn to sulk; she looked at the clock. “Just for that, you don’t get first pick when I cut the pie.” 

She got up from the booth, went into the kitchen, pulled out the pie, and placed it on the counter. 

“Alright everyone!” Carmilla shouted, holding up a pie knife, “come and get your pie!” 

Everyone crowded around. Laura was clapping her hands together excitedly. 

“Yay! PIE!” 

Carmilla ignored her, cut the pie into equal pieces, and served it to everyone. Perry took a careful forkful, moving the bite in her mouth before swallowing. 

“Beautiful as always, Carmilla,” Perry said, “what will you call it?” 

“Drunk Apple pie?” 

“I approve.” 

“Can we go home now?” LaFontaine asked, “I need to go over some bills--” 

“LaF, not in front of everyone,” Perry interrupted sharply. She looked around at everyone and said quickly, “well, make sure to clean up when you’re all done. See you tomorrow.” 

Everyone said goodbye, and both of them left with their pie. 

“...Do you think we should be worried about her?” Elsie asked, “I mean, Perry has always been a little off the wall, but now she’s been especially...colorful.” 

Laura, thankfully, interrupted before anyone could continue the conversation. 

“I dub this the best pie in the universe,” Laura announced, “Carmilla, try this pie. Try it. Go ahead.” 

She waved her fork in Carmilla’s face. Carmilla scrunched her nose. “Uh, I already have my own piece--” 

“You need to try this pie!” 

Carmilla gave in and took a bite. “Delicious. Whoever made this must be fantastic. And really hot.” 

“Oooh, she _is._ But like, so infuriating. I can’t stand her,” Laura rambled on, “it almost makes me forget how hot she is, except not completely, because she definitely is.” 

“Mm-hm, I’ll bet.” 

“We’re going to go finish cleaning up,” Danny said, “you should probably get her home before she says something else totally irrational.” 

“Ha, _ha,_ Red.” 

She saw Ell glare at her for a moment and sighed. “Come on, Yankee Doodle. We have to get you home before you start throwing up all over the floors. Don’t want Kirsch to have to clean it up.” 

Softly, Laura started to sing ‘Yankee Doodle’ to herself. Carmilla mouthed ‘I hate you’ to Ell as she led Laura out the door. 

Ell smiled innocently back. 

***

“You do _not_ look like you should be this heavy,” Carmilla grumbled to herself, helping Laura stumble back, “you really _do not._ This walk should not be taking as long as it is.” 

“Just jealous that I _can_ hold my liquor.” 

“Says the woman that needs my help to stand.” 

She finally managed to drag Laura up to the front porch. Should she just leave her? 

No. Laura wasn’t a pie. She needed to tell Mrs. Cochrane what happened. Wincing a little, Carmilla knocked on the door. She knocked on it a little harder. It took a few minutes, but the door finally opened. 

“Laura Hollis, where have you-- _Carmilla?”_

“...Hey, Mrs. Cochrane. Can I come in? I have a, uh,” Carmilla hefted Laura up a little, “delivery.” 

“Come right in--is my granddaughter okay?” 

“Fine. Had a little too much to drink. We were welcoming her to town and it got a little crazy.” 

She helped Laura into the house. “Hey Gran,” Laura said, “Carmilla is a really annoying, hot waitress, but she makes _really_ good pie.” 

“You’ve told me that, honey,” Mrs. Cochrane said, “can you put her on the couch?” 

“Will do.” Carmilla dropped Laura on the couch. “So...how are you, Mrs. Cochrane?” 

“Well, I was just woken up in the middle of the night by someone bringing home my granddaughter drunk as a lord. But otherwise, I’m recovering.” 

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Carmilla looked at Laura, who started to snore, “but other than some off key singing, she didn’t do anything terrible. Nothing that’s going to end up on Youtube.” 

Mrs. Cochrane rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Do _you_ have anything to do with Laura’s state?” 

“Um…” 

“Because Laura has told me about what a ‘horrible person’ you have been, and you’re hardly the helpful type, so it must have something to do with you.” 

Carmilla shrugged. “I...may have persuaded her to try and drink as much whiskey as possible.” 

She expected her to be angry but, instead, she started to chuckle. “Oh _God,_ that girl. Hot headed as a bull, just like her mother.” 

“You’re not mad?” 

“You got her home safe, even if I’m not _happy_ about it. If you want to make it up to me, bring me another one of those cranberry pies.” 

Carmilla’s eyes widened. “You knew that was me?” 

“Laura figured it out.” 

She frowned. “I didn’t tell her.” 

“She wanted to be Lois Lane when she was little, you know.” 

Carmilla smiled. “I’ll bring you that new pie, soon as I have time to bake.” 

“Then I’ll be going back to bed. Goodnight, Carmilla,” she ruffled her hair affectionately, “it was nice to see you again.” 

Carmilla smoothed her hair down. She was about to leave when she heard a soft, “wait.” 

“She went back to bed,” Carmilla whispered. 

“You brought my Gran pie,” Laura said, sitting up with some difficulty, “you’re really hot and infuriating but you brought her pie.” 

“...Yeah.” 

“I was going to tell you before but then I got distracted.” 

“By my hotness?” Carmilla asked, unable to stop herself. Laura shook her head. 

“Nuh-uh. But thanks...I’m going to go back to sleep now.” 

“Sure.” 

Laura was already snoring again. Carmilla tilted her head to the side curiously, watching Laura start to drool into her pillow, before she shook her head and walked back home. 


	5. Never Ever Getting Rid of Carmilla

Laura wasn’t sure if she could ever go back to the Silas Diner. She woke up with the worst headache of her life, and recalled every single stupid thing she did. Yep. She was never drinking anything again, _ever._ How could she make herself sick when she was supposed to be taking care of someone else? How irresponsible could she be? Why did she let herself care so much about what some random waitress thought of her? 

She didn’t have any answers. Instead, Laura busied herself with taking medicine for her headache and trying not to throw up. She managed to force herself to move around so she could drop Gran off at physical therapy--Gran, other than making Laura promise to ‘think before she acted’, picked up on Laura’s discomfort and didn’t press the issue. 

Laura took a nap in the car during the hour- long appointment. She needed it. 

“How’d the appointment go?” Laura asked, when they were back on the road.

“Great. They just had me do some stretches. How has the hangover been?” 

“The axe in the back of my skull has downgraded to a kitchen knife.” 

“Glad to know you’re feeling better, dear.” 

Laura smiled shakily and turned on the radio, softly so that the music wouldn’t exacerbate her headache. 

“I’ll feel even better once we get home and I can go back to laying on the couch,” Laura answered, turning into their street. “At least everything here is pretty close--” 

Laura stopped when she saw who was on the front porch, slowing down the cow and squinting. “Is that...Carmilla?” 

“Carmilla?” Mrs. Cochrane opened the window and looked out. “Well, it is! I didn’t think she’d get me that pie so soon.” 

“Pie?” There was a pie. Carmilla was on their front porch, sitting on the step, with a pie in her lap. 

She really didn’t want to talk to Carmilla. 

But she really wanted that pie. Laura sighed, pulling the car into the driveway.

“Carmilla?” Laura closed the car door and helped her grandmother out of the car, handing her the walker she used when she was outside. 

“Hey, Mrs. Cochrane,” Carmilla got up, holding the pie in her hands. “Here’s that fresh Cochranberry pie I promised you.” 

“Laura, grab that pie for me, will you?” 

“Are you sure you trust her?” Carmilla asked with a smirk, “she didn’t do so well with the last one.” 

“I didn’t know it was there, it was dark--okay you know what, I don’t feel like arguing right now, so just hand me the pie.” 

Carmilla handed the pie to Laura. “Well. Have a good day, Mrs. Cochrane--” 

“What, you’re not going to stay and have a slice with us?” 

Carmilla stopped, her back still to them. 

“I _would,_ but my boss expects me back--” 

“We both know Perry won’t mind if you tell her I asked you to.” 

Carmilla turned slightly; Laura saw her peek at her briefly. “I really don’t want to get into trouble--” 

“For visiting and sharing her baking with a feeble, sickly old woman?” 

Carmilla sighed. “...I guess a slice couldn’t hurt.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. 

“Gran,” Laura whispered, “what are you doing? I told you, we don’t get along!” 

“No, but _w_ e do. Can your grandmother not enjoy someone’s company, Laura?” 

“That is not fair and you know it--” Laura caught her smirk and blew out a breath, walking into the house and placing the pie on the kitchen table. 

“No, Laura, why don’t you put it in the living room. It’s much cozier in there.” 

“Sure, Gran.” She put the pie on the coffee table. Carmilla sunk into the couch, crossing her arms. 

“Carmilla, you sit with Laura while I grab some things, okay?”

They looked at each other. 

“Mrs. Cochrane,” Carmilla sat up quickly, “wait, let me help--” 

“Carmilla Karnstein, you are my guest.” 

“Um, Gran--” 

“Laura Hollis, you are my granddaughter and I will do what I want. _Sit_.” 

She planted herself firmly in the armchair that sat at the corner of the room. 

“So…” Carmilla looked at Laura. “Last night was...fun.” 

Laura glared at her. “We have very different definitions of ‘fun’ and I don’t think it’s a North versus South thing.” 

“Don’t even start with me, okay?” Carmilla snapped, “I already had Ell _and_ Perry read me the riot act.”

Laura knew she was being a little irrational--Carmilla didn’t _force_ her to do anything and yes, Laura may have overreacted--but at the moment she felt awful, and blaming it on someone helped. “You have been rude to me since we met. I don’t understand why my existence makes you feel a constant need to annoy me.” 

Carmilla leaned back in her seat. “Please--get over it. Like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into last night? I thought you were going to be a hotshot doctor. Pretty sure you would have learned about what alcohol does to the human body.” 

Laura stared at Carmilla. 

“...What?” 

“Are you...are you _jealous?”_ Laura asked. 

“ _Jealous?”_

Laura crossed her arms. “Yes, jealous. I’m a ‘hotshot’ doctor who gets to go back to the city at the end of the summer and you’ll still be _here.”_

Carmilla clenched her jaw. Laura took a breath and held it, staring back at her defiantly. 

“...You think you’re better than us?” Carmilla said evenly. 

“I never said I’m--” 

“Let’s get something straight, right now,” Carmilla interrupted, “you know who else was going to be a hotshot doctor? LaFontaine. They stayed for Perry and bought into the diner instead. Danny was going to law school until she had to take care of her brother and sister. Betty got into freaking _Princeton_ before her dad got laid off. Just because my friends couldn’t get out doesn’t mean that you’re smarter, it doesn’t mean that you’ve worked harder, it doesn’t mean you’re _better.”_

Laura was taken aback by the sudden outburst, squirming uncomfortably in her chair. 

Mrs. Cochrane walked back in, holding a tray. 

“I have lemonade, and some plates and forks for that pie,” she said, “so we can all dig in.” 

Carmilla stood up. “I’m sorry Mrs. Cochrane, but I really need to go back to work.” 

She grabbed the glass of lemonade from the tray, taking a sip. “And this lemonade is delicious. Thanks.” 

“Carmilla,” Laura said wearily, seeing how disappointed her grandmother looked, “please stay. Honestly, just have one piece. Gran told me she was hoping you’d visit.” 

Carmilla’s posture relaxed slightly when she looked back down at the pie. “...I _am_ in love with my own cooking,” she relented, looking back up at Mrs. Cochrane with a half smile. Before Laura could get up, Carmilla was helping Mrs. Cochrane into her seat and serving her a slice of pie. 

“You guys...know each other pretty well, huh?” Laura asked tentatively. 

“Well? I visited her family the day she was born.” She smirked at Carmilla, who took a rather large bite of pie and looked down at the floor. “Had the meanest scowl on her face too. Hasn’t changed a bit.” 

“Whatever,” Carmilla grumbled, making Mrs. Cochrane laugh. Laura bit her lip. 

“Not to mention, I’ve watched everyone’s children at some point. She was the only child who I could get to play Scrabble with me.” 

“Ell did too,” Carmilla corrected, “I was just the only one that could kick your ass.” 

“Language, Carmilla,” she chastised, and Carmilla shrugged, actually looking a little embarrassed. Laura struggled not to look too obviously perplexed. She was acting more like her granddaughter than Laura did. 

"Um...I was never very good at Scrabble," Laura offered, which caused an awkward pause. Carmilla looked at Laura again, running a hand through her hair. 

"Well," Mrs. Cochrane pressed on, "Laura, you're very good at other things. I've barely even talked to you about school." 

Laura perked up slightly, grateful to be back in her element. "Oh, school was great!" 

"My granddaughter here made the honor roll," Mrs. Cochrane proclaimed proudly, "she is a very smart young lady." 

Laura blushed slightly from the praise. Carmilla looked unimpressed. 

"Yeah, well, you can't eat the honor roll," she answered, taking another bite of pie. 

"She's got you there, honey." 

Laura wanted to point out that you also couldn't make six figures on baking pie--well, at least not generally--but after the conversation they had just had, Laura didn't think that would end well for her. 

"I guess," she answered, joining Carmilla in shoving her mouth full of food so that she could avoid talking. Then she stifled her desire to moan a little at the taste. Dammit, _why_ did she have to be so good at baking?

"Carmilla, how much do I owe you for this pie?" 

"Nothing," Carmilla answered after she swallowed, "it's on the house." 

"Of course not, I need to give you something!" 

"Honestly, it's fine."

"No it is not," Mrs. Cochrane answered firmly, "I am not about to let you do that." 

"And why not?" 

"Because if I let you leave without paying, you will do the same thing next time. And I'm not about to let Perry waste all that money on pie when she has bills to pay." 

Laura raised an eyebrow quizzically. "'Next time?'" 

"Of course," Mrs. Cochrane said, reaching into her purse to find her wallet, "Carmilla, you didn't think this was the last time you're going to bring me a pie, did you?" 

Carmilla put down her now empty plate. "It...isn't." 

"Because I used to go to that diner every day. I want a new pie at least once a week, or I'm going to suffer withdrawal symptoms. I have enough problems without withdrawal symptoms." 

Laura's mouth dropped slightly; she wiped some crumbs from her face with a sleeve. Carmilla saw the look on her face and flashed a smirk, looking out of the corner of her eye. 

"Well, if you want me to come back, week after week after week..." 

"No!" 

Both of them looked at Laura, who smiled sheepishly. "Um, I mean...no. That's fine. You seem very busy, Carmilla, I'd hate to make you do that. I'll go to the diner and grab the pie from you." 

Carmilla put her hands on her hips. "If you insist," she said, "that arrangement also works, if your dear old grandmother is okay with it." 

"I know I'm old, Carmilla, you don't need to say it," she replied, "and Laura, why don’t we compromise? You can pick out the flavors yourself. You eat so much sugar that you must have good taste. But I happen to enjoy Carmilla’s company almost as much as her desserts." 

"On the contrary, I think she's such an addict that she'd eat her own shoe if it was covered in pixy stix dust."

"You barely know me!" Laura exclaimed, the tips of her ears turning red when Gran laughed, "and that isn't funny!" 

"Oh, it's a little funny, don't be so serious." 

"Yeah, Yankee Doodle, don't be so serious," Carmilla agreed, looking more comfortable again. "It's been great, Mrs. Cochrane, but I actually do need to go back now. Take care, okay?" 

"This better not be the last time you are in my house, Carmilla." 

Carmilla answered by giving her a hug. "Far from it. And you," Carmilla looked at Laura, "will be coming back to the diner soon, right?" 

Laura grit her teeth. "Unfortunately, yes." 

"See you later, then." 

Carmilla gave a mock salute, sauntering out of the house. 

"You look like that pie gave you a stomach ache, Laura," Mrs. Cochrane said, cutting herself another piece. 

"No, but something just did. What was with that?" 

"With what?" She answered innocently, spearing a cranberry with her fork. 

"You know what! I hate her, she's been such a raging bi--bad person to me, and you ask her to eat with us and make us sit alone together. What gives?" 

Mrs. Cochrane didn't answer. 

"Well?" 

"I just don't know how to say this without offending you, dear." 

Laura frowned. "Offending me? You cannot expect me to be okay with that answer. I promise I won't be offended." 

"Fine. Laura, I love you. You are a lovely, talented, kind young woman. But you have no idea how to have fun." 

Laura's eyes widened. "I--okay, that is not true," she said, trying--and failing--to not look offended. 

"This whole thing with Carmilla proves it. You wouldn't be angry at her if you didn't take everything so seriously." 

"So that's it? I should let her do it because 'Carmilla will be Carmilla?'" 

"No, I am asking you to consider that she might not be as horrible as you think she is. Which is why I invited her to eat with us." 

Laura tapped her fork against her plate, obviously unconvinced. "No one is a bad person one hundred percent of the time, Gran. Just because she's nice to you doesn't mean she has to be nice to me." 

Mrs. Cochrane sighed. Laura bristled at the sound. 

"Gran, I'm your granddaughter. Can't you be on my side?" 

"I am not on anyone's 'side'," she answered, "I want you to be happy while you're here, and I happen to think Carmilla is a very nice woman that you would like if you didn't jump to the conclusion that she is the devil." 

Laura hadn't. She thought she was unpleasant, kind of pompous, and generally an ass, but 'devil' had never crossed her mind. But being told Laura was wrong was the quickest way to make her double down on everything she said. 

"I will think anyone I want is the devil, thank you very much," Laura said, getting up, "and I can make plenty of friends without trying to set me up with people, okay? My social life is none of your business." 

Laura regretted her angry tone as soon as it came out of her mouth. She mumbled, "I'll put this stuff away," before balancing the pie time on one arm and the plates on the other, rushing out of the room to save face and avoid the look on her grandmother's face. But she overestimated her gracefulness, dropping the plates--and the last of the pie--on the kitchen floor.

"Oh, not again!" 

***

If Laura had been looking for sympathy at the diner, she was not going to get it. At least not from Betty. 

"That is hilarious." 

"No it is not!" 

"Come on, Mrs. Cochrane trying to set you up with Carmilla is kind of funny." 

"It is not, and please get me a slice of a pie Carmilla did not bake." 

Betty laughed again, grabbing a slice of key lime and sliding it onto a plate for her. “You know she does all the baking, so I’m just going to assume you’ll want one anyway.” 

Laura's fingers drummed against the counter. "My own grandmother is taking her side, saying I am too serious and I don't know how to have fun--and it is not funny!" Laura exclaimed again, when Betty covered her mouth to hide a snort. 

"So, she tells you that you're taking everything too seriously, and you are angrily telling me that none of this is funny?" 

Laura opened her mouth, but decided not to say anything. 

"You've got to learn to loosen up without alcohol," Betty continued, wiping down the counter. 

Laura sighed. 

"...I don't know. It's just so strange. Um,” Laura bit her lip. “Betty, do you think I act like I’m better than you?” 

Betty looked confused. “Not really. I mean, you demand I get you coffee and pie, but that’s part of my job. Why?” 

“Because Carmilla seems to think so. She went off on me while she was at my house, about how I act like I’m so much smarter because I’m in school, meanwhile you guys--I mean, she said you got into Princeton?” 

Betty stopped. “...I mean, I wasn’t going to be a lawyer or anything. It was photography.” 

“It’s still _Princeton,_ Betty, that’s awesome.” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t end up going. Whatever.” 

Laura could tell from Betty’s tone that she did not want to talk about it anymore--and could she really blame her? Laura busied herself by pulling her phone out of her pocket and checking for texts from her friends back home. 

Ell ended up sitting next to her at the counter at some point; she looked busy, scribbling away at a piece of paper again, which Laura noticed out of the corner of her eye. She stopped, looking like she was trying to get the courage to say something. Laura put her out of her misery. 

“How are you, Ell?” 

“Great!” Ell squeaked. She winced at the sound she made. “I--I mean...are you okay? I feel really bad about what happened. I swear I didn’t approve.” 

Laura put down her phone. “Seriously, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Ell looked extremely relieved. “Good. I still feel bad, though.”

“Want to make it up to me, then?” 

“How?” 

“I dunno. Coffee?” 

Ell seemed like the best bet Laura had if she wanted to start making friends in town. She was one person, but she was a nice person and more importantly, best friends with Carmilla. Maybe if they hung out enough, Carmilla would be nicer for Ell’s sake. 

“Oh...sure, that sounds great. I have to go back to work though. Tomorrow?” 

“Sure.” 

Ell hopped off of her seat, grabbing the paper she’d been using and, like before, tucking it into her uniform pocket. 

Laura rested her chin in her hand. 

“What’s got you down, Yankee?” 

“I have dealt with enough of you today, Carmilla.” 

“Aw, and here I thought you missed me,” she answered, walking past her. 

“I thought you hated me. I’m the stuck up hotshot doctor, remember?” 

Laura swiveled her seat around to watch Carmilla. 

“I was just being honest,” Carmilla walked past Laura, “and that’s one thing I’m sure you can say about me,” she was holding a coffee pot this time when she walked past her, “is that I’m _honest.”_ Carmilla stopped this time. She wasn’t holding the coffee pot anymore. Carmilla wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, scanning the diner, attention obviously divided. 

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you’re _nice._ ” 

“Honest isn’t the same thing as nice. Betty, that table over there, did you serve them?” 

“Hell if I know.” 

“Do you do _any_ actual work when you’re here?” Carmilla took a dramatic, tired breath before running off to deal with the table. Her movements were oddly fluid and Laura couldn’t help but watch her as she moved around people, grabbed empty plates, pulled out her notepad and pen, and stopped in front of the table--all without slowing down. Laura never thought she would describe waitressing as looking like a dance, but...

“Enjoying the view?” Betty asked her. 

“No!” Laura answered, “I just...she seems like she’s been here for awhile.” 

“Ten years, consecutively.” 

“Ten _years?”_

“The only one that’s been here longer is Perry.” 

Laura looked away before Carmilla noticed her staring. She hadn’t known her that long. But there was one thing she could feel fairly confident about saying: there had to be a good reason she was spending ten years as a waitress. 

In her indignant speech about how everyone had their reasons for staying, Laura realized Carmilla neglected to mention why _she_ was staying. And Laura couldn’t help but want to find out. 


	6. Starbucks

Laura wanted to go to Starbucks instead of the diner when she realized there was one in town. It was probably the only store that was a chain, and Laura almost couldn't believe her eyes when she spotted it.

Starbucks. Familiar, nice coffee that would taste the same as it did back home. She told Ell as much and suggested they go there instead. 

"Starbucks...?" Ell asked, when she met Laura at her house that morning, "why don't we just go to the diner?" 

She really didn't want to deal with Carmilla, that was why. 

"Because, why don't we mix things up a little?" 

"The coffee at Silas is better though! I promise."

"I want to try something different, Ell, I've been going there every day since I got here. Please?" 

Ell shifted uncomfortably in place. "...Okay. I guess." 

So they went. Laura opened the door, breathing in the nice, cozy smell of fresh roasted, ethically-grown coffee beans. "God, I missed Starbucks." 

"Um...I'll get us seats," Ell answered, "you can order me whatever, I guess." 

Laura looked at Ell. "Sure?" 

She got in line; the place was packed. Laura ordered a triple caramel macchiato and, realizing she didn't know what Ell liked, settled on something with lots of sugar and cream. Laura turned around with the drinks in her hands, scanning the store, realizing that Ell was in the far corner. 

"I didn't know what to get you, so I settled on a chocolate macchiato with a ton of whipped cream," Laura said, sitting down, "I hope that was good." 

"Sure, it's fine." 

"Is there...any reason we're in the back corner?" 

"I dunno. I like it here." 

Ell mumbled it down at the table top, and Laura frowned slightly. 

"Ooookay, that's fine. I guess." Laura took a sip of her coffee, sighing at the taste, before grabbing her laptop case and pulling the computer out. "Do you mind if I check my email?" 

"Go ahead." 

Laura signed in. "I promised my roommate back home I'd tell her how I was doing," Laura explained, "she's probably wondering why I haven't already." 

"Who's your roommate?" 

"Her name is Sarah Jane," Laura answered, typing out a quick message to make sure Sarah Jane knew she was, in fact, alive. "Okay. I'm all yours."

"Cool! Thanks for agreeing to get coffee with me." 

"Thanks for agreeing to not go to the diner. No offense, but I kind of wanted to avoid Carmilla." 

Ell laughed. "She wants to avoid you, I think." 

"She does?" 

"Are you surprised?" 

"I mean, no." 

"She says she thinks Mrs. Cochrane was trying to set you guys up." 

“That is so _weird,_ ” Laura answered, “I refuse to believe that. She’s my _grandma._ Even if I didn’t hate Carmilla, I still wouldn’t date someone my grandmother tried to set me up with--not that she _is,_ ” Laura added hastily. 

“Suuuuuure, she isn’t,” Ell answered dryly. 

“Sometimes I don’t understand why you’re friends with her, and then you give me sarcastic responses like that.” 

Ell smiled back at Laura sheepishly, before her smile slowly turned into gentle confusion. “Laura, are you okay?” 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"You don't look okay." 

Laura sighed. "I guess...I feel like I don’t belong here." 

"Of course you don't feel like you do. You never lived here before." 

"No, I mean," Laura ran a hand through her hair. "I've been here for less than a week, and it's like...you should have seen her talking to Carmilla. I felt more like a live-in nurse than her grandkid. I know I didn't see her a ton growing up, but I never realized..." Laura trailed off. "I'm sorry. This is kind of personal, isn't it?" 

Ell smiled softly. "No, it's okay."

Laura relaxed a little. "Thanks. Has anyone ever told you that you're a good listener?" 

"I don't talk much, so I kind of have to be." 

“I’m being a downer,” Laura took another sip, savored the taste, and forced herself to smile. “So! What do you want to talk about?” 

They were stopped by a booming voice behind them. "Eloise!" 

Ell flinched. Laura looked toward the source of the voice; an older, sharply dressed man. He smiled, hands clasped behind his back. 

"...Hi," Ell mumbled. 

"My dear, aren't you going to give me a hug?" 

Ell looked uncomfortable at the idea but she stood, holding her arms out stiffly and letting him hug her. When he let go, he looked at Laura. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" 

"Of course. Laura, this is my grandfather, Cornelius Vordenberg. Grandpa, this is my friend Laura Hollis. She just moved to town." 

He held out his hand; it was bony, and Laura felt like she was shaking hands with a slightly squishy bag of sticks. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Hollis. I was just here to see how this location was doing." 

"Oh, you own this Starbucks?" 

"I own everything." 

Laura looked confused, and Vordenberg added, "I am in the business of multi-concept franchising." 

"He owns a bunch of different brands," Ell added, "most of them in the neighboring county." 

"This one, however, seems to be doing quite well. I'm hoping to open more businesses here. Silas seems to be an untapped gold mine!" 

Ell was biting her lip, scuffing the floor with the toe of her shoe. Laura swallowed. "That's...very cool, I guess." 

"Are you both staying? I'd love to chat more. Eloise has always been such a quiet girl," Vordenberg put a hand on Ell's shoulder, "especially after her parents' accident. If you've made a new friend, Eloise, I would love to know them!" 

At 'accident' Laura couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. Ell started to turn red. 

"Uh...well, Grandpa, I mean--" 

"I would love to stay, but we already have plans," Laura interrupted, "we're going to the diner. We, uh...promised to meet Carmilla there during her break?" 

Laura never saw anyone look more grateful than Ell did in that moment. Vordenberg frowned, his grip on Ell's shoulder tightening a little. 

"Well," he said, "does she work there too?" 

"No, Grandpa, Laura doesn't. She's in medical school." 

"Wonderful! Please, get Eloise out more in the future," Vordenberg said, "she could do without so much time in that grease trap. I mean that, of course, in the most affectionate way." 

Laura got up. "Come on, Ell, we need to go. We promised Carmilla, remember?" 

"Right. Right. Um, see you Grandpa." 

"Of course, my dear. We really should see each other more often." 

He kissed Ell on the cheek. Laura grabbed Ell's arm and practically pulled her out of the Starbucks. As soon as they were on the sidewalk, Ell gave her a hug. "Thank you. I mean, I know it's awful to say that because he's my grandfather and everything but thanks." 

Laura gave Ell a pat on the back and let go. "Hey, it's fine. I mean. He's kind of...how insulted would you be if I said he gave me the creeps?" 

"It doesn't make me happy, but I couldn't really...yeah." 

"Is that why you didn't want to go to Starbucks?" 

"I mean, he doesn't visit all his locations every day, but he's been...looking around Silas a lot. Do you actually want to go to the diner?" 

Laura readjusted her laptop case. "I wasn't planning to, but I guess if I told him we were going. It's never a bad day for pie." 

They started walking. Ell looked at Laura apprehensively. "Laura?" 

"Yes?" 

"Can you not mention we were at Starbucks?" 

"Why?" 

"Perry would get...she wouldn't be happy. It's been bad for business since it opened." 

"That's stupid. Perry can't get mad because you sometimes eat at places that aren't hers." 

"Trust me, please? It would just make her mad." 

"...Fine. Okay, I promise." 

***

Carmilla was bored. She was always bored at work, but when Ell wasn't there to talk to as she went back and forth serving tables it was especially bad.

"And how are we doing right now?" Perry asked, walking past Carmilla with a tray. 

"Trying to get these tickets straight," Carmilla said as Perry rushed past her, "we really need a POS system, Perry." 

"What we need is to keep the doors open, Carmilla," Perry said, rushing past her again, "a POS system is low on our list of priorities." 

Carmilla rolled her eyes and saw the doors open. "Ell! And...Yankee Doodle. Hey." 

"Please just let me sit down and eat my pie in piece," Laura answered, taking her spot at the counter. 

"You're lucky I'm not in the mood to annoy you at the moment," Carmilla answered. She looked at Ell. "Hey, what's--and you ran into Vordenberg, didn't you?" 

Ell tensed. "How did you guess?" 

"I know what you look like after you talk to him." 

Carmilla looked at Laura. "Give me a second." 

She hopped over the counter, grabbing a slice of coconut cream pie and shoving the plate at Ell. "Eat." 

"But I was going to ask Perry if I could start my shift--" 

"Ell, we both know you will feel better after you have a piece of pie. Now sit down at that corner table and do not even think about working until you come back with a clean plate. Alright?" 

"Thanks, Mom," Ell mumbled, taking the plate and going to find a booth. Carmilla put her hands on the counter and smirked at Laura. 

"You meet him, too?" 

"It was...awkward, to say the least." 

"Yeah, he isn't popular around here. Feel free to speak as ill of him as you want." 

"He kept going on about how he owns 'everything'. I think his ego is even bigger than yours." 

"Well," Carmilla turned around and looked at the pies in the display counter, "that means a lot coming from you. Does that mean you hate me slightly less?" 

"No, it means I hate creepy old men who make their grandchildren obviously uncomfortable a lot more." 

Carmilla turned around. "What'd he say?" 

"I don't know, he basically said Ell barely had any friends and said the diner was a grease trap." 

"Well, it is a grease trap. But it's our grease trap," Carmilla grabbed a pie and gave it to Laura. "Here. Evil Grandpa pie." 

"Did you just name that?" 

"Look at the menu." 

Laura did. "Wow, he really is unpopular around here." 

"That's an understatement. See you Yankee Doodle."

Laura took a bite. Chocolate mousse. Carmilla turned around as she was walking away, smiling when she saw Laura’s reaction. She loved that Laura didn’t like her but still went crazy for her pies. It was strangely gratifying. 

“Okay, Cinnabon, you done eating?” Carmilla asked, walking over to Ell.

“One sec.” 

Carmilla saw Ell covering something with her arms. “Are you ever gonna show me what you’re always writing?” 

“No.” 

“Perry is not going to like you always wasting her paper placemats.” 

“They’re one-use anyway.” 

Carmilla sighed. “I’m relieving you of your pie eating duties,” she finally said, “go ahead and ask Perry to start your shift.” 

“ _Thank you._ ” 

Ell got up--making sure she took the paper--and walked away to start her shift. Carmilla took the plate, the pie half eaten, and sat back down at the counter. A quick pie break wouldn’t hurt. 

“Don’t you have work to do?” Laura asked, when Carmilla sat down at the counter. 

“We’re not busy,” Carmilla answered. 

“Well, do you have to sit next to me?” 

“And miss out on a golden opportunity to annoy my favorite Yankee?” Carmilla grinned at Laura, mouth full of pie. Laura wrinkled her nose. 

“You are so gross.” 

“And you are so stuck up.” 

“I thought you said you weren’t in the mood to annoy me!” 

“Well, the sugar rush from this pie is giving me the energy.” Carmilla tried to peek over Laura’s shoulder at her computer, which she had taken out. “Whatcha doing?” 

“Tumblr, not that it’s any of your business.” 

Carmilla snorted. 

“Hey, don’t laugh! I have like, several thousand followers--” 

“God, do you hear yourself? Even your tumblr is _serious business._ ” 

“If you didn’t make fun of _everything_ I say…” 

“Maybe if you weren’t so hilariously defensive.” 

“Well, I think you were a jerk to me before I was ‘hilariously defensive,’” Laura shot back. 

“Ah, but that isn’t fair. I would need to say something to you first for you to get hilariously defensive.”

Carmilla was smiling. She couldn’t help it; going back and forth with Laura was _fun._ Laura looked like she was going to respond, then decided against it, going back to her pie. 

“Give up, Sweetheart?” 

“Leave me _alone,_ Carmilla.” 

Perry walked past them, slowing down. “Carmilla, why are you not working?” 

“I took a quick break.” 

“You should be taking your ‘quick break’ during your quick break.” 

Carmilla sighed dramatically. “ _Fine.”_ She got up. Perry looked at Laura and smiled. 

“Sorry, Laura. Would you like a cup of coffee?” 

“No thanks, I already went to Starbuck--” Laura stopped. “I mean, it’s fine.” 

Perry frowned. “You went to the Starbucks?” 

“Yes.” 

“...Orange juice, then.” 

“Sure.” 

Perry walked away. Carmilla didn’t leave. 

“Geez, Perry looked like I just kicked her puppy.” 

“This diner basically _is_ her puppy, Yankee.” 

“I didn’t get Starbucksto make her mad.” 

“Yeah, well, that Starbucks has been taking business.” 

Laura turned in her chair to look at her. “Seriously? _That_ much? All they sell is coffee and sweets.” 

“You’d be surprised. We weren’t rolling in dough before it opened, either.” 

Laura looked genuinely concerned. Carmilla didn’t understand why. The only reason she gave two shits about the place was because it was paying her. Laura didn’t need to worry about it. Why care so much? 

Well, Laura was a worrier, she guessed. Carmilla knew what they were like, she had one as a friend and another as her boss. She didn’t need another one in her life. 

Although, even as she thought it, Carmilla couldn’t help but call out, “catch you later, Sweetheart,” and laughed at the indignant expression on Laura’s face. 


	7. What's Inside

Laura settled into a routine pretty easily. She drove Gran to her physical therapy appointments three times a week. When she dropped her off, she went to the diner for coffee. When she picked her back up, they spent time at home before Laura went back to the diner for dinner and, of course, pie.

(Not that she didn't have pie that morning, of course.) 

It was like she had taken the role of her grandmother as the regular customer, going in like clockwork. She'd talk to Ell, she'd sit down at the counter and wave to Perry or LaF if either were out and about, and then she’d steel herself to talk to Carmilla. 

She was still as annoying as ever. Somehow, no matter how many times Laura promised herself that she would not talk to her, she would end up spending a good portion of the time trading barbs back and forth. Laura couldn't believe it. Laura would turn red in the face, get angry, verge on even shouting, but Carmilla would just rest her elbows on the counter and smirk back at her. She was having fun. It was infuriating. 

And then, for the past two weeks, Carmilla would show up at Gran's doorstep with a pie and stay to eat, while Laura fumed silently and the two of them would laugh it up like they were best friends. 

Seriously, why did someone so annoying also have to be the best baker Laura ever met? 

"The problem is that you let her get to you," Ell said to Laura one day, "if you stopped--" 

"'Taking her so seriously', I know," Laura answered, "everyone keeps telling me that! It's like Carmilla is snake poison or something. If I just deal with her enough, I'll build an immunity.”

"...I think 'snake poison' is a _little_ bit dramatic?" 

Laura sighed and leaned against the wall. "Maybe," she admitted.

As if on cue, Carmilla walked past them and called out, "I don't mind. Sounds kind of badass." 

"Stop listening to my conversations!" Laura shouted, "you are---ugh." 

She looked at Ell again. "Ell, can you get me a table? One that isn't in Carmilla's section?" 

"Oh--sure. I'll sit you in Betty's section." She pointed her in the direction of the table and Laura sat down with a huff. Ell threw down a paper place mat. "What kind of pie do you want this time?" 

"Whatever the special is. I hate to say it, but I'm sure what Carmilla made will be awesome." 

Ell nodded and walked away. Laura sighed; she was at the table right next to the photographs again. Perry would always take a few minutes in between running around the diner to tell Laura the stories behind the photos. There was one that was closest to Laura, of Gran and her mother when she was Laura's age. Right before she met Dad. Laura sighed and looked down at the table. 

Ell was right; _everyone_ was right. The angrier she got at Carmilla, the more she seemed to enjoy herself. Her dad always taught her to try and be the bigger person. Turn the other cheek. Laura had never been very good at it, but she was willing to try anything at this point. Besides, she still had that nagging curiosity that wouldn’t go away. 

Which meant...interacting with Carmilla. _Civilly._

“Jesus,” Laura said to herself, “am I really going to do this?” 

“Do what, Yankee?” 

Laura looked up. “I thought this wasn’t your section.” 

“Betty wanted to take her break,” Carmilla answered. She smirked. “Aw, what, you’re avoiding me?” 

“No. I mean I was planning to,” Laura took a deep breath. “What I meant is--I would like to...I have been thinking--” 

“Wow, this must be serious if you were _thinking._ ” 

“I am trying to have a truce!” 

Carmilla frowned. “What do you mean, ‘truce?’” 

Laura looked at Carmilla, pointing to the chair across from her. “Sit.” 

“I have work--” 

“I’ll let you have some of this pie.” 

“Okay, you’re starting to freak me out a little,” Carmilla said, sliding into the seat across from Laura, “I haven’t known you that long, but sharing? Your _pie?”_

Laura squirmed uncomfortably. She kept telling herself that this was a last resort. It was worth at least a little effort. She’d run out of options. 

“Like I said, I have been thinking--and _please_ no sarcasm--and I think I may have been a little too...I guess...harsh.” 

Carmilla shrugged, taking a bite of pie. “Eh, I’m a big girl. It doesn’t bother me.” 

“Still. Everyone seems to keep telling me that you are not as bad as I think you are.” 

“Not to _other_ people, no.” Carmilla laced her fingers together. “But teasing you is just so much _fun._ ” 

Laura clenched her jaw. “I would...like to...understand you better,” Laura continued, plowing through. 

“You sound like you’re in physical pain right now. Doesn’t exactly make me excited about the prospect.” 

“Okay, _look,_ ” Laura huffed, “I am asking you--no, _begging_ you--to please be serious for two seconds. My Gran loves you. Ell and I are friends and she likes you. Everyone I interact with on a regular basis seems to like you and I am--shocking, I’m sure--able to admit that I might have been wrong to, like, judge you or whatever. Can we _try_ being civil?” 

Carmilla looked surprised. She raised an eyebrow at Laura silently, taking a bite of pie and chewing slowly--to annoy her, Laura was sure. Finally, she swallowed. 

“...Ell has been annoying about it so sure, fine. We’re going to have another meetup after closing tonight. Want to try being ‘civil’ then?” 

Laura nodded. “Fine. We will try being civil then.” 

Carmilla got back up. “Well. Glad to know that stick up your ass has loosened a little. Although...I don’t know if I _want_ you to understand me.” 

“Why not?” 

Carmilla’s smirk widened into a shit-eating grin. She put her hands behind her back and leaned in, so close that Laura leaned back a little. 

“I’ve got to keep my air of mystery, don’t I?” 

She spun on her heels and walked away before Laura could say anything back. 

***

“...And you _promise,_ no more alcohol.” 

Carmilla raised her hand. “I promise, no alcohol this time. No one will be getting drunk on my watch.” 

Perry crossed her arms. “I really need to stop letting you all do this. You can do all this baking at your _own_ home, Carmilla. And if anyone gets hurt in my diner…” 

“No one is going to get hurt,” LaFontaine said, tugging Perry’s hand, “come on, Perr Bear, this is the first time we’ll get home before midnight in a _week._ ” LaFontaine clasped their hands together. “Please? For me?” 

Perry sighed. “Alright. But Danny is in charge when she gets back!” 

“Wait, why the fuck is _she--_ ” 

“Danny is the oldest, and I trust you as far as I can throw you. Goodnight!”

Perry and LaFontaine left, and Carmilla leaned against the counter. "I need a recipe." 

"You didn't think of one already?" Betty asked, walking out of the bathroom and rubbing her hands. 

"What, do you think pie recipes are all I think about?" 

"Kind of, yeah." 

Carmilla paused. "...That Hollis woman is coming back tonight." 

Betty rolled her eyes. "Please, Carmilla. She's not 'that Hollis woman.' It's Laura. She's friends with basically everyone but you now." 

"She apparently wants a truce." 

"A 'truce?'" 

"Yeah. I guess being pissed off at me all the time wore her out." 

Betty grinned. "Hey, good on you Carmilla. Guess even she couldn't resist the Carmilla Karnstein charm for long!" 

"'Carmilla Karnstein charm,'" she scoffed, "yeah, real charm. Only girl I've ever kissed is Ell. A girl you kiss once in tenth grade doesn't count." 

"Hm?" Ell looked up from a table she was cleaning at. 

"Nothing, Ell." 

Ell looked back down at the table. 

"It isn't your fault. The only other options were Perry and LaF--who have been taken since they were five, pretty much--and Danny." 

Carmilla wrinkled her nose. "While that may be true, I highly doubt Laura has suddenly fallen madly in love with me." 

"I never said that. But she was drunkenly talking about how hot you were a few weeks ago." 

"That's just an objective statement of fact," Carmilla answered, making Betty struggle not to laugh.

"Of course." 

"Besides, if she was interested, I'm certainly not." 

"What, you don't think she's hot?" 

"If you're into brunettes, I guess..." 

(She was, but she was not going to tell Betty that.) 

Betty threw Carmilla a pointed look before she dinged the little bell on the counter. 

"Hey, Kirsch, get out here! We're gonna have company soon!" 

"Ooooh, L-Dog? Coming!" 

'L-Dog?' Carmilla mouthed. Betty shrugged. Kirsch ran out of the kitchen just as Laura walked into the diner. 

"Hey, guys! I wasn't going to bring in alcohol for obvious reasons but I did bring in these!" 

Laura held up a box of cupcakes. Carmilla couldn't help but laugh when she saw it. 

"You are offering a baker store-bought cupcakes?" 

Laura blushed. "Well not everyone is a natural like you!" 

"Hey, I'll take one," Betty answered, grabbing the box from her, "even bad cupcakes are good; it's like sex." 

"I don't think that's actually true, Betty," Ell said, walking past her to throw her rag in the sink. 

"Well, I guess it's just bad if it's Kirsch," Betty flashed a grin at him. 

"Not cool bro," Kirsch groaned, "not cool!" 

"Ooookay, I'll just put these down," Laura put the box on the table. "Where's Danny and Elsie?" 

"Elsie had to bail, Danny is hopefully coming back," Betty answered. 

Carmilla stayed near the edge of the group. She wanted to see how serious Laura actually was. Maybe she was committed to this whole 'truce' idea she proposed, maybe she forgot about it already. It was up to her. 

"So...are we going to bake a pie?" Laura asked. "Or, I don't know, whatever you guys want to do. This is only the second time I've done this." 

Carmilla couldn't help herself. "Well, Perry banned alcohol from the diner after hours thanks to you." 

"Me? Me? You were the one--" 

"Hey, D-Bear's car!" Kirsch exclaimed, "check it out!" 

They all crowded around the window and watched an old, beat up pickup truck pull into the parking lot. Danny got out, then opened one of the passenger doors. 

"Hey, she brought the Little Bears!" Kirsch exclaimed. Laura looked at him. 

"Who are the 'Little Bears?'" 

"Her little bro and sis." 

Danny opened the door of the diner. "Hey guys--" 

"Danny, why the f--" 

"Carmilla, children!" Ell exclaimed. 

"--frilly Hell did you bring them?" 

Danny frowned. "The sitter didn't want to watch them this late." 

"Then why aren't they home?" 

"...They begged. Plus, you know, it's summer. They can stay up late once and awhile." 

The boy, chubby with a mop of brown hair that fell into his eyes, stuck his tongue out at Carmilla. "Yeah, Carmilla!" 

His sister did the same thing. "Danny says!" 

"Tucker, Annie, you promised to be nice," Danny said wearily, "don't make your sister take you back home, please?" 

They were both attached to one of Danny's legs, Danny moving them with every step. 

"Are they twins?" Laura asked, "they look so much alike." 

"We're not twins," Tucker answered, "I'm five minutes older." 

Laura smiled. "Sorry, my mistake." 

Carmilla crossed her arms, and Danny threw her a pointed look. "Look, what did you want me to do? Not show up?" 

"Excuse me for not wanting to deal with two eight year olds."

"Look, if you wanted to do something so bad that you can't discuss it in front of children, it's probably a good thing that they’re stopping you," Danny answered, "besides, I don't get to spend a lot of time with them." 

Danny gave them each an affectionate ruffle on the head. "They're usually asleep by the time I get home. And they missed you guys." 

"'Course they did--hey, Little Bears!" Kirsch grabbed a wadded up napkin, "go long! Just like high school football!" 

"YEAH!" They both jumped up and wrestled for the napkin. Danny ran a hand down her face. 

"Okay, okay, can we not rile them up?" 

"Aw, but we like playing with Kirsch, Danny!" 

"I know, Tuck, but if you guys break anything in the diner I'll get in trouble."

"We'll find a weekend, dudes," Kirsch assured them, plucking the napkin out of his hands to throw it into a trashcan. 

"If they need to be here--hey, Ell!" 

Carmilla looked at her. "Don't these kids like you or something?" 

Tucker and Annie looked at her. "Ell!" 

They ran up and hugged her, almost knocking her down. She stifled a laugh. "Aw, hey guys! It's been awhile." 

"We miss when you used to babysit." 

Ell bent down to hug both of them. "Sorry, guys. I know, I've been...busy." 

Danny ran a hand through her hair. "Um...Ell?" 

Ell looked up. 

"You wouldn't mind?" Danny asked. 

Ell's demeanor changed. She avoided looking at Danny, mumbling uncomfortably down at the floor. "Sure, no problem. I have coloring books in the back." 

Danny bit her lip slightly, watching Ell walk away with them. 

"Alright, now that Ell is going to keep the little ankle biters distracted, I'm going to go grab something to make this get together moderately interesting." 

She sidestepped past Danny, walking into the kitchen. She grabbed everything that was leftover, things they couldn't sell the next day but also were loathe to let go to waste. Carmilla had been a waitress for a long, long time, so she could balance three half eaten pies on each outstretched arm, walking backwards out the door and spinning around to face them. 

"This," Carmilla spread everything out on the counter, "is now your banquet table. And go."

Kirsch was busy talking to Laura, Betty, and Danny, showing them his arm. "So yeah, I wanna get something really badass as soon as I save up the money, y'know? Maybe like, a bio mechanical thing, so it looks like my skin is peeled back and you can see robot parts and stuff." 

"As long as you promise not to get it on your face, be my guest," Danny answered. 

“If you got one that looks like your head was cut open, you could make people think you have a brain,” Betty suggested, laughing when Kirsch huffed. 

“I totally have a brain! I have all the brain I need in here!” He flexed. 

Laura nodded, obviously uninterested. She politely excused herself to go to the counter, grabbing a slice of cheesecake. 

"You were kind of rude to me before," Laura said, "I thought we agreed we'd try a truce." 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. "So you were serious about that?" 

"I'm starting to regret offering." 

"I'm starting to regret considering the offer." 

"You can't even get along with five year olds, why should I think you could get along with me?" 

Carmilla surveyed the selection of pies she had grabbed as she spoke. "First of all," she said, sliding a piece of blueberry onto her plate, "that is not fair. Those little brats love to mess with me. I will admit that I am not the biggest fan of children in general, but it's like they want me to hate them." 

A smile spread across Laura's face. 

"What?" 

"Don't you think you're, you know, taking them a little too seriously?" 

Carmilla glared at Laura before, finally, relaxing. "Touche." 

She hopped over the counter, sitting next to Laura, and kept eating her pie. 

"I still can't believe you brought cupcakes. As if we wouldn't have enough to eat here." 

"Hey, you guys are known for your pie, not your cupcakes! And the only thing I love as much as pie, is a good cupcake. Just try it." 

"I know what they taste like." 

"Yeah, but you obviously forgot if you're turning your nose up at them." 

Carmilla rolled her eyes, but got up and grabbed the cupcakes. Kirsch and Danny were arguing over something animatedly and didn't even notice. 

"Alright, I am eating one," Carmilla said, holding one up, "see?" 

She was about to take a bite when Laura interrupted, "oh no you don't!" 

"What?" 

"You're doing it wrong." 

"It's a freaking cupcake, you bite it."

"That's what you think, but to get the ultimate cupcake eating experience, it's a little more complicated than that." 

"You know what? Fine," Carmilla put the cupcake down and motioned 'go on.' "Please show me your masterful technique." 

Laura grabbed the cupcake. Carefully, she ripped the bottom off and placed it on the frosting. "See? Now it's a cupcake sandwich. Way less messy." 

She ate it in two bites. "See?" She asked, voice muffled by food, "cupcakes are the best." 

Carmilla couldn't help but laugh a little, watching Laura's cheeks ballooned with frosting like a chipmunk. "...You know, I have an even better idea." 

Laura frowned. "What?" 

She grabbed two cupcakes, flipped one upside down, and squashed them both together. Before Laura could say anything, she crammed the entire thing into her mouth. Laura's jaw dropped. 

"That defeats the purpose! The point is to make it less messy to eat!" 

Carmilla’s jaw hurt from the effort of chewing the entire thing; the icing stuck like glue to the roof of her mouth. She finally swallowed, Laura looking horrified the entire time. 

Carmilla laughed. "I think it's a fair tradeoff. I call it the Goliath. Come on, live a little." 

"Trying to convince me to do something stupid, again?" 

"Hey, last time it was alcohol; don't act like this isn't an improvement." 

Laura regarded Carmilla seriously for a moment before saying, "give me a couple." 

"Wait, you're really going to try it?" 

"Yeah, but I'm going to do it better than you." 

Carmilla passed Laura the plastic box. "How?" 

Laura grinned at her. "I'm using one vanilla, one chocolate." 

She squished them together, and smashed the entire thing into her mouth--with decidedly less grace than Carmilla. She didn't just get some icing on her; she got it all over her face. Carmilla burst into laughter. 

"I'm sorry--well, really no--but look at yourself." 

Laura caught her face in the metal of the napkin dispenser and burst into laughter as well. 

"What are you guys doing?" 

Laura looked at Danny and blushed.

"...Nevermind that question." 

Laura wiped off her face with a napkin. "Okay, okay, that was not my best moment." 

"Yeah, Cupcake, but it was your most entertaining moment." Laura looked surprised. "What?" 

"You called me Cupcake." 

"So?" 

"Not Yankee. Or Yankee Doodle." 

Carmilla shrugged. "Well, considering your rather manic obsession with sugar, it was only a matter of time you got something dessert related. And 'Yankee Snickerdoodle' is a bit of a mouthful. So yeah. Cupcake. Unless you prefer--" 

"No, no," Laura answered quickly, "I mean, I would really like it to be my name..." 

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." 

Laura sighed. "Fine. Cupcake is progress anyway." 

They sat in silence, eating their desserts. It was the closest thing to companionable Laura and Carmilla had ever been. The side of Carmilla's mouth quirked upward. They didn't know how much time had passed until Ell walked back to the group. 

"Um, guys? They both should probably be in bed." 

Ell was holding Annie, asleep in her arms. Tucker rubbed his eyes. 

Danny looked at the clock. "Oh, shit--and Tucker, don't you dare repeat that!" 

"I'm not sleepy, sis, we can stay..." 

"No you guys can't. Here," Danny held out her arms, and Ell handed Annie over, "thanks. Come on, Tuck, let's get you both in bed." 

"Bye Ell!" 

"Bye, guys." 

Ell watched them all walk out. 

"Well, D-Bear is gone, so we should probably head out," Kirsch stood up and stretched, "I'll see you dudes tomorrow." 

"Yeah, I'm gone," Betty added, "I need to sleep off all of this sugar. Is it possible to get a sugar hangover?" 

"Oh, totally," Laura answered, completely seriously. Carmilla held back a snort. 

"Gran is going to think I got drunk again when she sees how I look tomorrow morning," Laura said with a sigh, "she'll be relieved when she realizes I was just eating too much sugar." 

She grabbed her coat, throwing it back on. She looked at Carmilla. "Um. I'll see you tomorrow, Carmilla." 

"I'll see you, Cupcake." 

"See you, Ell!" 

"Bye, Laura," Ell said distractedly. She looked at Carmilla when Laura disappeared. "'Cupcake?'" 

"Whole inside joke we apparently have now, I'd have to explain it." 

"Try me." 

"...She eats cupcakes." 

"Aaaaah, that makes sense." 

"Are you alright?" 

Ell crossed her arms. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I saw you watching them leave. Don't you think it's about time you actually said more than two words to her?" 

Ell rubbed the back of her neck. "What am I supposed to say? It's been too long. Bringing it up is just...awkward." 

"Avoiding her like the plague is pretty awkward." 

"Danny could have talked to me first. I'm sure she hates me." 

Carmilla rolled her eyes. "Yes, because you didn't use your psychic powers to predict the future." 

Ell swallowed. "You know what's more interesting? The fact that Laura didn't just sound like she wanted to kill you." 

She knew Ell was trying to deflect; it was her favorite thing to do. But it was late, and they'd had that conversation too many times to count. She'd let Ell off the hook this time. 

"...Stockholm Syndrome on Laura's part, I'm sure," Carmilla answered, "I wouldn't expect us to suddenly be best friends." 

She gave Ell a quick hug; Ell returned it. "Good night, Carm, see you." 

"See you too, Cinnabon. Get home safe." 

Carmilla walked outside; she and Ell lived in opposite directions. As she walked, Carmilla felt the gears turning in her head. 

Cupcakes. Pie. Maybe she could work with that. 


	8. Down at the Diner

Laura actually found a certain amount of background noise made her more productive. She was sure there was some sort of science to why, but all she knew was that Silas Diner during the breakfast rush was a good time for studying. 

She was at her usual spot--she'd been going there enough that now she could actually say she had a usual spot--with her book open, eyes scanning their way down the page and pausing only occasionally to sip her coffee or take a bite of pie. 

"Hey, Laura, need anything else?" 

"No, Betty, I'm good," she answered, not looking up. She vaguely heard someone say 'coming through!' and thought nothing of it. 

Before she realized what had happened, coffee spilled all over the pages. Laura yelped, jumping back before any of it could burn her. 

"What the--" 

"Who'd I hit?" 

Carmilla turned around and locked eyes with her. "Cupcake. Told you I was coming through." 

Laura didn't say anything. She was too busy staring down at the now ruined, brown, sticky pages, mouth agape. "Do...do you even know...how much that cost...I NEEDED THAT BOOK." 

"What's the big deal?" 

"This is my textbook! For school! I need to take tests, I have Step 1, I needed to study!" 

Carmilla frowned. "Seriously? During the summer?" 

"THIS IS MED SCHOOL, NOT THIRD GRADE." 

"...I'm going to go get some paper towels to clean this up," Betty said, removing herself. 

"You have said a lot of rude things to me, but this is the absolute worst thing you have ever done." 

Carmilla stared at Laura for a moment before finally saying, "...Sorry." 

"I can't believe you don't even seem to care--wait what." 

"I said I'm sorry, Cupcake," Carmilla repeated, "look, I say a lot of shit, but I don't ruin people’s things. Sorry." 

"Oh. Oh." What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn't keep yelling at her. She was being sincere. "...Just be more careful next time." 

"Want me to try and dry it off?" 

"No, Betty is going to try it." 

"Alright. I need to get these eggs out. Hope the book is still salvageable."

“Thanks?” Laura watched her walk away. Betty returned with the paper towels, trying to mop up some of the mess. Laura watched her. At some point Carmilla disappeared into the kitchen, although Laura didn’t really care at that point. 

“Okay, this was my best attempt,” Betty said, “hopefully this was somewhat helpful?” 

Laura squinted. Well, there were a few pages in the middle of the book that were just ruined. But she was pretty good at identifying the symptoms of Sideroblastic Anemia anyway. 

“...I appreciate you trying,” Laura answered. 

Betty went back to work. Laura groaned, putting her hands over her mouth and taking a deep breath. It could have been worse. She could have spilled the coffee on herself. She could have thrown the book at Carmilla’s head impulsively before Carmilla apologized. 

“Hey.” 

Laura looked up. “Carmilla.” 

“So, I know you’re obsessed with cupcakes,” Carmilla said. 

Laura eyed her suspiciously. “Okay?”

“I was thinking about what you said, that our diner wasn’t known for our cupcakes. In fact, we don’t even sell cupcakes. And you, being obsessed with them, seem like the best candidate for taste testing.” 

“Taste testing?” 

“Cupcakes. I started trying to bake cupcakes. Consider this a peace offering.” 

Laura realized Carmilla had her hands behind her back. She crossed one leg over the other. “Alright, I’ll bite. Let’s see it.” 

Carmilla revealed what she was holding. “I usually bake pies. So I didn’t want to stretch myself too much on the first one.” 

It was a blueberry pie in a silver wrapper. Or at least it _looked_ like one. Laura started to salivate. “Oh my God, Carmilla, that looks amazing. Is that frosting piped to look like pie crust?” 

“Yeah, I hate the taste of fondant. And it’s topped with blueberries that are little blue candy coated chocolates.” 

“The cake’s flavor?” 

“Blueberry vanilla. Seemed wrong to make it look like a blueberry pie and not at least somewhat deliver. I also used red candies for a cherry pie cupcake. Well?” 

“Oh! Right. Of course.” 

Laura grabbed the cupcake, unpeeling it carefully from the wrapper. She admired it for a moment, almost feeling like it was a shame that she was about to eat such an amazing looking baked treat. Almost being the operative word--she ate it, of course. 

“ _Mmm,_ that is awesome.” 

“Didn’t do it sandwich mode this time?” 

“And ruin the beautiful lattice work frosting? Of course not.” 

For a moment she’d even forgotten that her textbook was ruined. She licked her lips of icing happily, and Carmilla smiled. Not even smirked--smiled. 

“Great. I expect you to be on call for all of my experiments. Least you can do for making me put up with you.” 

“Sure, I will! You can start by showing me the cherry version of this cake.” 

“Will do.” 

Carmilla walked back into the kitchen while Laura was licking frosting off of her fingers. Maybe this truce with Carmilla was going to work out better than she thought. Cupcakes _and_ pie? Laura was in Heaven.

There was a _ding_ from the entrance, signifying someone else walking into the diner. 

“Welcome to Silas Diner, I’m Ell, how are you today?” 

“Oh, we know who you are. Your grandfather is Cornelius Vordenberg, correct?” 

Laura turned in her seat to look. A man and woman were standing together, the man smiling and relaxed, the woman looking like she was standing at attention. 

“...Yes.” 

“Happy to meet you. Theodore Straka, and my colleague Melanippe Callis. We’re here on behalf of your grandfather. Is the owner of the establishment in right now?” 

Ell looked like a deer caught in headlights. “...Give me one moment.” 

She got up and marched past Laura. 

“Ell, who are those guys?” 

“I have no idea, but Perry is not going to like them.” 

Laura wanted to keep watching them, which was easy, because they walked toward the counter. Laura busied herself by hiding her face in her textbook. 

“ _Ugh,_ Theo,” the woman said, “I do not understand why he doesn’t just let them have the place. I feel greasy just being here.” 

“Relax, Mel,” Theo answered. He kept smiling, resting one arm on the counter and looking around the diner. “We’re not here to ask questions, we’re here to get the owners to sell. Can you try to be pleasant?” 

“You know I don’t do _pleasant,_ Theo.” 

“We’re not going to get this done right with that attitude. Let me do the talking.” 

Mel rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms across the front of her blazer, scowling at the kitchen where Ell disappeared. 

Perry walked back out. She marched up to Mel and Theo with a fakest smile Laura had ever seen. “Hello, my name is Lola Perry. How may I help you today?” 

“Hello, we are--” 

“We will be having this discussion in my office, if you don’t mind.” 

Theo and Mel looked at each other. “...Sure, of course,” Mel said, “it would be better to have it in private anyway.” 

“Lovely,” Perry said, “I’ll meet you there in a jiffy. Go on, just through those doors and straight down.” 

As soon as Mel and Theo weren’t looking, Perry’s face dropped. “You come into my diner,” Perry mumbled, “oh, I will show _you_ …” 

She clenched her fists and stomped off after them. Laura grabbed her stuff and moved to a table farther away. 

***

Carmilla spotted them walking through the kitchen and was immediately suspicious. No one walked into a diner wearing business suits. These people were not here for the pie. 

When Perry walked in after them, obviously unhappy, Carmilla couldn’t take the curiosity anymore. She followed them to the office, opening the door. 

“...Theodore Straka, and my colleague Mel--” He stopped. 

“We’re having a meeting,” Mel said. Carmilla ignored her. 

“Perry, what’s going on?” 

She bit her lip. “Carmilla, you can stay if you want to.”

“We really would prefer--” Theo started. 

“She is my employee,” Perry said, “and if we are discussing anything that will affect my employees, they are free to listen.” 

The office was less of an office and more of a glorified broom closet. Large for a broom closet, tiny for what it was currently used for. Carmilla squeezed into the room. Perry was standing with LaFontaine behind their desk, and Carmilla joined them. Theo and Mel looked at each other and decided to press on. 

“So, I think it’s best if we get right down to it,” Theo said, “Mel and I were hired on behalf of Mr. Vordenberg’s company. Corvae Corporation would like to buy your business.” 

“I’d like to know why Mr. Vordenberg thinks we’d be interested.” 

“Especially considering we’ve already answered him over the phone,” LaFontaine added, “several times.” 

“He also asked you to talk to him in person, which you refused to do,” Theo answered, “hear us out. Maybe we can change your mind.” 

“That’s unlikely,” Perry said. 

Theo looked completely unbothered by Perry’s attitude. “We’ll see about that. Mel?” 

Mel was holding a briefcase. She rested it on the table, opened it, and started organizing papers. She plucked one out of the pile. “A letter of intent. Mr. Vordenberg is willing to pay more than what the business is currently worth. The location is very desirable to him.” 

“How does he know how much it’s worth?” 

“It was the amount he told us to offer you. We would work that out when we bring someone to assess your financials, but Mr. Vordenberg is adamant that money is no object to him.” 

“I understand this is your job, so I will try to say this as respectfully as I can,” Perry said, “but I am a little insulted that you think money will make me part with something that has been in my family for generations. This business has been around for seventy years, and I intend to keep it open for another seventy at least.” 

“Do you?” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Carmilla snapped. 

“Carmilla--” 

“I know LaF, language, whatever,” Carmilla grumbled. 

“What exactly _is_ that supposed to mean?” 

“I walked in here and I was struck by how empty it was,” Theo continued, “most of the tables not filled, during the breakfast rush? On a Saturday? And no one under forty besides the staff. Maybe one at the counter. Let me guess, a lot of old regulars but no new customers?” 

Perry clenched her jaw. “Business is fine.” 

“I assume Mr. Vordenberg beginning to open new franchise locations in town hasn’t been helping you attract new blood, either.” 

Perry swallowed. “Do not pretend you’re doing me a _favor._ ” 

“We aren’t,” Theo answered, “but bankruptcy is definitely worse than what we’re offering. If your business isn’t doing well financially, I would consider taking a good offer while you can.” 

Perry looked at the letter. “...I see.” Perry frowned. She crumpled it up. “This was all very polished, and very professional, and I would like you both to leave. Right now. I am still uninterested in selling. Vordenberg can have you both bother us as much as he wants. I am not selling.” 

Theo and Mel looked at each other. 

“...We’ll be in touch,” Theo said, “I’m leaving you our cards in case you want to call. I hope you’ll reconsider.” 

Mel snapped the briefcase shut and followed Theo out. 

Carmilla flipped them off when their backs were turned. 

“Carmilla!” 

“They’re dicks; they deserve it!” 

“Be that as it may,” Perry grumbled, “if I let you get away with it you’ll end up doing it to a customer without thinking.” 

“Hey, Perry…” LaFontaine stood up. They opened their arms and Perry pulled them in for a hug. 

“It’s just so annoying,” Perry mumbled. 

“I know, Per.” 

“They were dicks,” Carmilla repeated, “talking about how the diner sucks. Seriously.” 

Carmilla bit her lip for a moment, then said, “the diner _is_ doing fine, right?” 

Perry fingers curled around her spouse’s back. She lifted her head. “...We’ll get through. It’s just a slow month.” 

“Few months,” LaFontaine corrected. 

“LaF…” 

“Sorry, force of habit. It’s my job to be realistic. I handle most of the bills.” 

Carmilla sidestepped past them. “I should...probably head back.” 

“Wait,” Perry looked at her. “Please don’t tell the others. I don’t want them to worry.” 

“Right.” 

“We are _not_ selling. If they ask, they were...were salesmen, or something. I don’t care what you say.” 

Perry sighed heavily, sitting down at her desk and pulling out what looked like a stack of bills. LaFontaine put their hand on her shoulder, and Carmilla decided she needed to get out of there to let them mope on their own. 

“Hey, Carmilla!” 

“...What do you want, bus-bro?” 

“Can you check on D-Bear? She ran out of here.” 

“What do you mean, _ran out?”_

Kirsch blinked. “Uh, ran out. Some dude and a hottie walked out and Danny, like, did a double take and dropped her stuff.” 

“Jesus, Red, seriously…okay I’ll check on her. You keep bro-ing it up in here or whatever.” 

Carmilla walked into the main dining area. Danny was at the other end of the counter, talking to Mel, and Carmilla saw that Ell was talking to Theo. Carmilla rolled up her sleeves, ready to kick Theo’s ass if need be. Perry would probably give her a raise if she did.

 

***

“...Seriously, Lawrence, I can’t believe you’re wasting your potential in this hell hole.” 

“Wow, it’s great to see you too Mel.” 

“I’m just saying, you reek of fryer oil. And since when did you know how to cook?” 

Danny shoved her hands in the pockets of her uniform. “I learned. Fast. Perry knew I needed the work…” 

“No wonder they’re about to close down,” Mel scoffed, “they hired the woman who set a cup of ramen on fire as the head chef.” 

“I had been awake for over thirty six hours studying and I forgot to add water, Mel, it was an honest mistake--” Danny frowned. “--and this diner is _not_ closing down.” 

“It better be so I can go home.” 

“ _That’s_ why you’re here?” 

“What, you think I was here to visit?” 

“We were _friends,_ can’t it be both?” 

“I’d be happy to catch up somewhere else,” Mel wrinkled her nose, “and when you don’t smell like stale french fries. I can call--” 

“Mel, wait,” Danny grabbed her wrist as she turned away. “I know this is Vordenberg, he’s been calling Perry for weeks. At least tell me if he’s planning on replacing the staff or not if he ends up owning the business.” 

Mel’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second before she shook her head. “I’m sorry Danny, you know I can’t do that. Duty of confidentiality.” 

Danny didn’t respond. She walked away from Mel instead. Mel watched her, shook her head, and joined Theo at the front.

Laura didn’t see how that ended; Danny ended up sort of falling into the seat next to her. She wasn’t sure whether she should ask if she was okay or not. It was probably kind of rude to admit she was totally eaves--

“You were totally eavesdropping on that conversation, weren’t you?” 

“...Mm-hm. Uh, no one is getting sued, right?” 

Danny gave Laura a tight lipped smile. “No. We’re above the law here.” 

“Ha. Good.” 

Danny sighed. “Don’t mind me. I’m, uh...taking my break.” 

Laura tried to look back to the still legible parts of her textbook. But it was hard to ignore Danny’s obvious distress. 

“For the record,” Laura offered, “I’m staying to take care of family too. Don’t let her make you feel bad for it.” 

Danny opened herself up, turning to face Laura and rest one arm on the counter. “I appreciate that, Laura, but like...no offense, our situations are pretty different.” 

“Well, yeah, of course. I didn’t quit school or anything--” Laura stopped for a moment, realizing she was probably making things worse. “But I think what you’re doing is way more impressive than some law degree. That’s all I mean.” 

Danny’s shoulders were sagging with an invisible weight. “Sure. I was the first Lawrence in my family to go to college. Now I’m a fry cook who has to subsidize our diet with leftover baked goods to keep my family from starving. I feel really impressive.” 

She pressed her palm against the countertop, pushing herself up. After a brief pause she added, “...thanks, Hollis. I appreciate that, I really do. We should talk more.” 

Laura smiled. “Totally, sure.” 

Danny adjusted the paper hat that she wore with her uniform, blowing out a tired breath before trudging back into the kitchen. 

“What’s with her?”

Laura startled and realized Carmilla was standing there, crossing her arms. “Were you listening?” 

“I saw you listening to them,” Carmilla pointed out. 

Laura had no comeback. “...Carmilla, what is going on?” 

“Well, Theo was chatting up Ell for whatever reason, so I stared at him until he got so uncomfortable he left with his friend.” 

“With the _diner._ ”

“...Nothing.” 

It was Laura’s turn to cross her arms. “Perry is always worried, and now lawyers showed up. It’s not ‘nothing.’” 

“Perry gets worried over nothing,” Carmilla answered, “ask your grandmother, she’ll back me up on that. Those idiots were just some douchey businessman’s latest attempt to annoy us into submission so we’ll sell the diner.” 

“That ‘douchey businessman’ wouldn’t happen to be Ell’s grandpa, would it?” 

Carmilla frowned. “How’d you guess?” 

“I heard them talking about it. Plus I met the guy for like, two minutes, and he _screamed_ douchey businessman.” 

Carmilla rubbed the back of her neck. “Don’t worry about it. Perry will sell her body to science before she lets anyone else touch this place.” 

“Can I help?” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow quizzically. “‘Help? How so?’” 

“...I have no idea,” Laura admitted, “but I like the diner. I like Perry. I like the people that work here. If I can do anything to help I want to.” 

Carmilla smirked. “And by ‘people that work here’ you mean everyone but me.” 

Laura imperceptibly bit her lip for a moment. “Well, you’re not a reason _not_ to like it anymore, I guess.” 

Carmilla actually looked pleasantly surprised by Laura’s confession before schooling her face into a more neutral expression. “You want to help? Buy more food.” 

Laura grinned. “Did you _really_ think I was going to leave without more of your new cupcakes?” 

Carmilla smiled--an actual, genuine smile that wasn’t a smirk and wasn’t teasing, which Laura couldn’t help but note was actually quite lovely--before pulling out her notepad and pen. 

“If you’re going to single handedly solve all of Perry’s monetary woes, we better get started,” Carmilla answered, “what’ll you have then?” 


	9. Fireflies

Laura spent most of her time at home reading. Gran had an old TV with pretty awful video quality--Laura got headaches from looking at it for too long. Laura knew about the problem before she arrived, but seriously underestimated how bored she would get without it. There were only so many board games she could play before it got old, and she couldn’t spend all her time hanging around the diner.

Luckily, Laura had the complete Harry Potter series to reread, and the internet besides. She was doing some light fanfiction reading on her phone when she realized she got a text from an unknown number. 

_Cupcake, sorry I was late today, had to work through break. Delivering pie right now._

Laura squinted at it. She'd almost forgotten Carmilla was due to deliver another pie. Another text popped up. 

_Also, Ell gave me your number, in case you were confused._

And then another. 

_And this is Carmilla but you probably guessed that._

Laura put Carmilla in her contacts. She might as well, they saw each other enough. And lately they'd been okay. She put her phone away and decided to wait for her on the porch. 

Summer meant that it was light late, so Laura could still see fairly clearly. She put her hands on her hips. After a few minutes she could see Carmilla walking down the block with Ell. 

"Hey, Laura!" Ell said, waving. 

"Here's the pie I promised." 

Carmilla held out the pie tin. Laura started to salivate at the smell. 

"Oh my God, what is it?" 

"'Don't Eat This If You're Diabetic Pie.' Very experimental recipe." 

"Okay, but what is it." 

"I made vanilla cupcakes, frosted them, cut them in half, and filled a pie crust--" 

"THAT IS THE MOST AMAZING THING I HAVE EVER HEARD." 

"...And there's a streusel on top," Carmilla finished with an amused smile. 

"Can you rename it, 'Laura Hollis in Heaven?'"

Ell laughed. "You haven't even tried it yet, Laura." 

She was holding a mason jar. It was also, strangely enough, empty. 

"No, but this is Carmilla's pie we're talking about. Um...Gran went to bed early, so I'll just put this inside." 

She ran inside, threw it on the table, and when she returned said teasingly, "if you were looking for a tip, Ell, I'm not giving you one. Sorry." 

"What...? Oh!" Ell looked down at the jar in her hands. "Me and Carmilla were going to go catch fireflies."

Laura looked at Carmilla. _"You_ catch fireflies?" 

She tried to imagine Carmilla, skipping after little glowing bugs. It almost made her laugh. 

Carmilla raised her shoulders defensively. “I keep telling her that we’re in our twenties.” 

“No, it’s not _that,_ it’s that it’s _you._ ” 

“It’s more Ell.” 

“Hey, it’s tradition!” Ell protested, “we’ve done this every summer since we were kids.” Ell held the jar up. “We put them in a jar. It’s really pretty.” 

Laura smiled. “I used to do that. I mean, not with real ones though…” She looked back at her front door. 

She was going to put on sweatpants and spend the rest of her evening reading fanfiction. Like she’d done every night since she got there. But it was a nice night, and it was still light out besides…

“...would you mind if I came with?” 

“Of course not,” Ell answered immediately, “right Carmilla?” 

Carmilla, surprisingly to Laura, didn’t argue or make any sort of sarcastic comment. She shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Oh...oh, alright! Let’s go!” 

“Well, let’s head off!” 

Ell handed the jar to Carmilla. “If you’re not going to try, at least hold the jar for me.” 

Carmilla took the jar and watched Ell walk ahead of them, swiping at the small glowing bugs as they appeared. Laura put her hands in her pockets, walking next to Carmilla. 

“So...you used to do this too?”

“Not with real ones,” Laura repeated, “my dad used to use glow sticks. He’d cut them up and pour the stuff inside into a jar. He called them firefly jars--” Laura stopped, darting a hand out and snatching a firefly from the air right in front of Carmilla’s nose. She stared at her hand. “--and _hey,_ I caught one.” 

Laura raised her hand. “I caught one, Ell!” 

Ell turned around and looked at her. “Then put it in the jar!” 

Carmilla had a bemused smile when she lifted the jar. “How old are you again?” 

“Twenty-four, and I am not ashamed.” 

“You need to stop acting you’re too old for this, Carmilla,” Ell said, circling back toward them, “you keep forgetting this was _your_ idea.” 

“My idea?” 

“Yeah. When we were both nine and the power went out at your house, remember? You made the jar as a nightlight because you’re afraid of the dark.” 

“ _Was_ afraid of the dark.” 

“Everyone knows you’re afraid of the dark, Carmilla, it’s not exactly a secret.” 

“It was to her,” Carmilla mumbled. Her face was starting to turn red. Laura actually found it kind of endearing. 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Laura said. 

Carmilla shrugged again. 

“I’m not--” 

Something knocked into Carmilla from behind, sending her tumbling into Laura. They both ended up on the ground. 

“What the _fuck?”_

“Uh...Carmilla…” 

Carmilla pushed herself back up, turned around, and saw Danny with a hand on the shoulder of both of her siblings. 

“They were chasing a firefly,” Danny said, “sorry.” 

“...Uh...yeah…” 

“For the record guys, you can’t say what Carmilla just said until you’re eighteen.” 

Laura got to her feet, smiling softly at Tucker and Annie. “Hey guys, how are you?” 

“Great!” Tucker exclaimed, “Danny is letting us go outside and play.” 

“Want to see something cool?” Annie asked. 

Laura kneeled down. “Sure.” 

She had something cupped in her hands. Annie opened them to reveal a tiny firefly, light flickering. 

“Aw, that’s really nice Ann--” 

_SMACK._

Laura was startled by her smashing it. 

“See?” Annie showed Laura her palms. “If you smash ‘em, it makes your hands all glowy!” 

Laura wrinkled her nose. “That’s...really cool.” 

Annie nodded, pleased by Laura’s answer. She walked away with her brother to try and chase more bugs. 

“Hey, Hollis,” Danny said, waving. 

Laura didn’t see Danny outside of her uniform a lot. Now she was wearing a red and grey baseball shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and her hair was down again. 

“You look nice,” Laura offered. Danny smiled. 

“Thanks. Although I’m pretty sure I have eyes like a raccoon,” Danny rubbed her eyes with the bottoms of her palms, “I thought school was bad, but I think I’m sleeping even less now.” 

“I lived on cans of Monster and Red Bull to stay awake so I could study,” Laura answered, “I know the feeling.” 

They both shared a quick laugh, and Danny looked over Laura’s shoulder. “Sorry, I have to run before Annie and Tuck end up running onto someone’s lawn to catch a bug or something.” 

“We can walk with you,” Laura said, looking at Carmilla and Ell for confirmation, “guys?” 

“Hm?” Ell looked up from the mason jar Carmilla was holding, counting how many fireflies they had caught. 

“Can we walk with Danny?” 

“Um…” 

“We wanted to walk the other way,” Carmilla stated. 

“But why does it matt--” 

“Hey, it’s fine,” Danny answered, “I don’t mind, I have to take the kids back home soon anyway. If I keep letting them stay up late because it’s summer, it’ll be Hell to make them go to bed at a decent hour once school starts.” 

She gave a two fingered salute. “I’ll talk to you later, guys--Tuck, Annie, get back here!” 

Danny broke into a jog and left. Laura waved at her rapidly retreating back. 

“This enough, Ell?” Carmilla asked, shaking the jar slightly. 

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt them!” 

“Hurt them?” Carmilla started walking again. “Ell, they’re going to die in three days or so anyway.” 

“All the more reason why we don’t want to hurt them _now._ ” 

Laura was about to follow when she realized that there was something on the ground. A crumpled up piece of stiff looking paper. Laura picked it up. 

“You are way too slow, Carm,” Ell stated, “I’ll walk ahead. You keep being broody and pretend this isn’t fun.” 

“Will do, Cinnabon.” 

“Hey, Carmilla!” 

Laura caught up, holding the paper in her hand. “Is this yours? It must have fallen out of your pocket,” Laura started unfolding it, “when we were both knocked over…” 

She trailed off, realizing she was holding a pamphlet. Laura squinted to read it. 

“Cupcake, hand it over,” Carmilla said, holding out her free hand. 

“Oh my God, twenty five _thousand_ dollar cash prize?” Laura grinned at Carmilla. “It’s awesome that you’re entering this contest, Carmilla!” 

Carmilla grabbed the paper. She didn’t pull it out of Laura’s hands unkindly; just a gentle tug until she let go of it. “I haven’t entered it.” 

“You haven’t?” 

“Mrs. Cochrane handed it to me awhile ago.” 

“Gran gave it to you?” 

Carmilla held the pamphlet carefully at the edges of her fingers. “One day she walked in and left it along with my tip. She was always telling me I should enter contests.” 

“But you haven’t entered?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well, why the _Hell_ not?” 

Carmilla was taken aback by Laura’s outburst. “Uh--” 

“You make pies that I’m half convinced prove the existence of a higher power, and you’re passing this up?” 

Carmilla still had a jar in one hand, so she awkwardly shoved the paper into her pocket again. “I haven’t _not_ entered. I’ve been thinking about it. That’s why I carry it around with me. To remind me it’s an option.” 

“But why do you even need to think about it?” Laura asked, gesturing wildly, “you could totally win! Anyone that doesn’t love your pies would have to be an idiot! No, you would _definitely_ win. You really, really should.” 

Carmilla smirked. “You’re not afraid it’d make my gigantic ego even worse?” 

Laura paused. They walked a few steps before she asked, “hey, can you answer one question for me? Sarcasm free?” 

“Sure, but that’s your quota of sarcasm free answers for the week.” 

“Do you like what you’re doing?” 

“What?” 

“What you’re doing. Being a waitress, living in Silas, you know, all of that.” 

Carmilla narrowed her eyes. “Should I be _embarrassed?”_

Laura shook her head quickly. “No, I don’t mean it like that! I just…” She looked down at the ground, as they walked, trying to figure out the right thing to say. “You seem _unhappy,”_ Laura settled on, “Perry is happy. Ell is...well, the reasons she’s _not_ happy I don’t think have anything to do with her not liking Silas or her job, you know? But you just seem...y’know...unsatisfied…I guess?” 

She trailed off and looked up again. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.” 

Carmilla was searching Laura’s face, and whatever she found made her defensive stance soften. “I’m not,” she admitted. 

“Then you _should_ enter the contest,” Laura answered, “you deserve to like what you’re doing, and it’s pretty easy to find something you like to do with twenty five grand.” 

Carmilla looked unsure of how to respond. She finally answered, “...Thanks, Cupcake.” 

“No problem. What else are acquaintances for?” 

“Carmilla, open the jar!” Ell dropped more fireflies into the mason jar. “Okay, I think that’s enough,” Ell said, “Laura’s house is on the way back.” 

“Take the long way?” Laura asked her, “it’s a really nice night.” 

***

No one had ever asked Carmilla before if she liked what she was doing. 

Well, that was unfair. Mrs. Cochrane didn’t say it, but she acknowledged the answer to the question. The pamphlet wasn’t just a pamphlet; it was a ticket. A ticket out of Silas, with Mrs. Cochrane’s blessing to get the Hell out while she was still young. 

She hadn’t gone to college. Spent ten years as a waitress. No one took Carmilla seriously. Of _course_ she liked what she was doing. She’d been doing it long enough. It was just Carmilla being dramatic.

Even Ell, after almost two decades of friendship, didn’t get the extent of what Carmilla meant when she said she wished she could go. “I’d love a vacation, maybe see the city for a summer,” she would agree when Carmilla brought it up. But she didn’t mean _vacation._ She didn’t mean _for a summer._ Carmilla wanted to break out of the box they were trapped inside, and Ell wanted to get out and stretch a little before climbing right back in. 

But now here was Mrs. Cochrane’s Goddamn Annoying Granddaughter, asking Carmilla what she wanted and believing her answer. And believing in her. Not just that she could win, but that she should want better, because she _could_ do better. 

So now Carmilla watched Laura chatting animatedly with Ell on the way back to her house. Started to notice how the slight humidity made Laura’s hair start to frizz at the edges. Laura laughed at something Ell said to her, tongue poking at the back of her teeth before she looked at Carmilla. 

“Hey, Carmilla, can I ask you something?” 

“...Sure, but you can’t be mad if my answer is sarcastic.” 

“What can you tell me about Danny?” 

Carmilla’s brow furrowed. “What about her?” 

“Anything. I don’t know, she seems...interesting.” 

As always, the topic of Danny made Ell lag back a little, wanting to avoid the conversation. But now Carmilla didn’t want to talk about her either. “‘Interesting?’” 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you mean, ‘interesting?’” 

Laura raised her shoulders. “I don’t know, just interesting. You told me about her but I don’t actually know that much. I’d like to know her a little better.” 

“Aw, does someone have a little _crush?”_ Carmilla didn’t mean it to across the way it did. She meant friendly teasing. It came across as just plain teasing. “What do you want to know?” She added, trying to use a slightly nicer tone. Laura looked annoyed, but seemed willing to let it go. 

“I do _not_ have a crush, I just want to get to know the people I hang out with,” Laura said, “as for questions, um...you said she went to law school, right?” 

“University of Alabama,” she answered, “it was a pretty big deal around here. There was a party for her and everything. Made it kind of awkward when she came back.” 

“What happened? I mean, if that’s too personal for Danny you don--” 

“ _Carm._ ” 

Carmilla and Laura looked back at Ell. “Ell, Laura’s going to find out eventually. She could ask her grandma as soon as she goes back home.” 

“No, wait,” Laura said, “if Ell doesn’t want to talk about it, we really don’t have to--” 

“Our parents died in a car crash,” Ell blurted out. Laura’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Sorry, I just wanted to get it over with!” 

“You’re sisters…?” 

“ _No,_ our parents were just friends. They went out together. In the same car.” 

Ell held her hands down in front of her, rubbing her wrists. “So yeah that’s what happened so we don’t ever need to mention it again right in fact I think that’s your house.” 

She said it all in one quick breath and Laura reached a hand out, maybe to hug Ell or just grab her arm, but thought better of it. “Ell, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Ell mumbled, “goodnight, Laura.”

Laura was walking toward the door and stopped. “Carmilla, why are you walking with me…?” 

She hadn’t even realized she was doing it. “Uh--maybe I’m nicer than you thought. Maybe I’m a gentlewoman who walks a young lady to her door,” Carmilla said quickly, wiggling her eyebrows for effect. Laura rolled her eyes. 

“Uh-huh. Goodnight Carmilla. And, um…” She bit her lip. “I _am_ sorry. Is Ell going to be alright…?” 

“Yeah, it’s been years. She’ll be okay. I know how to deal with her.” 

“Thanks. One more thing?” 

“Yeah?” 

Laura put a hand on Carmilla’s arm. “Promise me you will enter that contest. You don’t need to show up if you change your mind. Just enter.” 

“...If it’ll get you to stop annoying me, sure,” Carmilla answered softly. 

Laura nodded and walked back into the house. 

Carmilla looked at her arm, and the spot where Laura had touched it. She wrenched her gaze away from the spot to head back to the sidewalk. 

“Ell.” She looked up from scuffing her sneakers on the ground. Carmilla held up the jar. “I’ll walk you back to your house. We got a good amount this time, huh?” 

Ell smiled softly. “Yeah, I guess we did.” 

Carmilla nudged Ell’s shoulder gently with her own and they started walking. 

“So what were you guys talking about on her porch?” 

“Oh. Um, I’m going to enter the contest after all.” 

“Carmilla, that’s great!” 

Carmilla couldn’t help but look back at the house for a moment. Laura had asked about Danny. Carmilla didn’t like that. It was almost like she was jeal--

Oh, _shit._

“What?” 

Had she said that out loud? “Uh, nothing. Nothing.” 

Ell went back to talking, and Carmilla ran her fingers down the spot on her arm that Laura had just touched. 


	10. Doing the Right Thing Pie

Perry didn't call staff meetings often. And not during mornings. Usually if she had something to say she would wait until everyone decided they were going to hang out after closing. Perry kept everything running so smoothly that she didn't need a lot of time to explain things. 

So when Perry called Carmilla and asked her please, could she show up a little earlier that morning for a meeting, she was about as confused as everyone else. 

"Good morning Carmilla," Perry said when Carmilla walked in. She was pulling on one of her curls, chewing her bottom lip. LaFontaine had an arm around her. 

"Morning, Perry Crocker. Morning, LaFontaine." 

"Hey, Carmilla. Everyone's sitting at the counter. We can start as soon as you sit down." 

Carmilla looked over their shoulders and saw that everyone else was sitting. She walked past Perry and LaFontaine. Ell removed her purse from the seat next to her and Carmilla took its place. "Thanks, Ell." 

'Welcome' Ell mouthed, placing her hands in her lap. 

"So!" Perry clapped her hands together. "Thank you all, I know we open early enough as it is so to ask you to come in early is...definitely not...you know, it's inconvenient so I definitely appreciate you coming." 

"Why are we here this early again?" Elsie asked. 

"Well, I didn't explain that yet..." 

"Exactly," Betty interrupted, "it's kind of suspicious that you're not telling us anything, Perry, come on." 

"Okay. Well. First of all, as you all noticed, some people came here a few days ago. They were working for Mr. Vordenberg. He's interested in buying the diner." 

Everyone nodded. They knew all of that already. 

"I want to assure all of you that we are not closing this diner. It is very important to me and I know it is for all of you. That's why I told them in no uncertain terms that we were not interested in selling, ever. Which is why...um..." Perry looked at LaFontaine. They squeezed Perry's shoulder. 

"We went over our budget and we need to make some pay cuts," they finished. 

The reaction was instantaneous. Ell and Carmilla groaned, "seriously?" Kirsch and Elsie had similar looks of annoyance.

"Are you kidding me, Perry?" Betty asked, "the pay isn't great as it is." 

"Betty, we didn't want to do this, but we have to--" 

"My dad can't find work and you're cutting my pay." 

Perry tried to respond, but Danny interrupted, having been momentarily shocked into silence. 

"You cannot be fucking serious!" 

"Danny, calm down," LaFontaine said. 

"I am not calming down!” Danny stood up. “I cannot get my pay cut, I have bills I can barely make as it is--” 

"Red, none of us want our pay cut," Carmilla said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. 

Danny bit the inside of her cheek. She glared at Perry and LaFontaine before shaking her head and storming off into the kitchen. 

“...Oh dear,” Perry squeaked. 

“Perr, that isn’t your fault,” LaFontaine said, “do you want me to go talk to her?” 

“No,” Perry replied, “it’s my fault. I know Danny has trouble. She has every right to be upset,” Perry’s eyes started to tear up, “you all have every right to be upset. I’m so sorry I have to do this.” 

“Hey, _hey,_ ” LaFontaine rubbed her shoulders, kissing her quickly on the cheek, “Perry, you’re doing a great job.” 

“Yeah, Perry, you’re a great boss!” Ell added, looking like she was unsure whether or not to do something other than smile encouragingly. 

“We never had to cut salaries when my grandparents ran the diner,” Perry said, “we never had to when my parents did. I’m _not_ a good boss. Mom and Dad are going to be so disappointed when they find out. I’m a _failure._ ” 

“Hey, it _isn’t_ your fault,” Betty said, her own anger deflating somewhat, “it’s Vordenberg. He’s thrown a shit ton of franchises up in neighboring towns. Remember that hotel that popped up in Lustig county? Now tourists head up there instead of passing through Silas.” 

Ell shrunk a little in her seat. “Yeah. It’s his fault.” 

Carmilla got out of her seat. “I’m going to go check on Red.” 

“Are you sure? Danny seems kind of...angry.” 

“That’s why I need to be the one to do it--I don’t get intimidated easily.” 

Carmilla cracked her knuckles and disappeared into the kitchen. Danny was furiously prepping by dicing mushrooms for the omelets. 

“Hey, Red.” 

Danny ignored her, mumbling to herself. She threw the mushrooms with oil into a pan. 

“Time of the month?” Carmilla asked. 

“Leave me alone, okay?” Danny snapped, “I’m having a bad morning, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“We’re _all_ having a bad morning after that news,” Carmilla pointed out, walking to her, “but we’re not throwing a bitch fest over it.” 

Danny turned around, dropping her knife--which made Carmilla feel a _little_ better about how pissed off she looked. She wasn’t intimidated easily, but that didn’t mean being stared down by a woman with almost a foot on her wasn’t going to give Carmilla pause. 

“Of _course_ you’re not,” Danny said, “Kirsch and Elsie still live with their parents. You and Ell live alone. Betty’s parents depend on her, but like--she didn’t take out her loan yet before she dropped out. Do you _know_ how much a year of law school costs, Carmilla? _Do you?”_

Carmilla swallowed. “I assume a lot--” 

“You’re _damn right_ it’s a lot! So don’t tell me I can’t throw a bitch fest when I have to work _two_ jobs, and I have two little kids I can barely afford to feed. Do you know how it feels when your little sister tells you she’s _tired_ of having to eat pie all the time? And I never see them because I’m working--unlike you, I don’t have the _convenience_ of being able to pretend my family doesn’t exist. They depend on me. And now I have to deal with _this!”_

She was getting into Carmilla’s face, and Carmilla felt her back digging into the cold metal of the middle counter. She briefly wondered how much everyone could see from the narrow kitchen window. Hopefully there would be a witness if Danny strangled her. 

“Uh...Red…” 

“ _What?”_

“The mushrooms are on fire,” Carmilla said weakly. Danny turned around. 

“Oh, _shit!_ Help me out!” 

Carmilla grabbed a cloth and started beating at it, both of them gagging on smoke. 

“Guys, what is--” Perry’s eyes widened. “LaF, get the fire extinguisher!” 

Before either Carmilla or Danny could register what had happened, they were doused with the fire extinguisher. They stumbled away from the blast and ended up holding each other up in the corner of the kitchen, shivering. LaFontaine lowered the extinguisher once the fire was put out. 

“...You guys should probably clean yourselves up.” 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Carmilla said. Danny hit her head in the process of getting out of the way; she rubbed it. 

“Ow, yeah, alright…” She looked at Carmilla. “Um. Sorry--” 

“It’s fine,” Carmilla said. Danny nodded. 

“Right, right.” 

Her face was starting to flush from embarrassment, the spraying seeming to have shocked Danny out of her burst of anger. She rubbed the back of neck and walked toward the bathroom. 

***

“What happened to you?” Laura asked, wrinkling her nose as soon as Carmilla walked toward her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You smell like a weird mix of burnt food and soap.” 

Carmilla furrowed her brow a little before responding, “oh, that was when they used the fire extinguisher this morning. What’ll you have--” 

“You cannot say that and expect me not to ask what happened!” 

Carmilla sighed. “She got distracted while she was roasting some mushrooms for prep. They caught on fire. We both got sprayed.” 

“Is _Danny_ okay?” 

“Your tragically noble fry cook is fine,” Carmilla answered and, because for _some reason_ Laura being so concerned over Danny annoyed her, added, “she threw a temper tantrum because Perry had to cut everyone’s pay.” 

“She _did?”_ Laura gasped. 

Carmilla realized she probably said too much. “Not a big deal, Cupcake.” 

“I just feel so bad for Danny,” Laura said, “when those lawyers showed up she told me she has to take leftover pie so she can feed her brother and sister. I wish I could help but like, I don’t want to embarrass her or anything.”

Carmilla watched Laura rest her chin on her hand and couldn’t believe she was actually considering--

“Wait here,” Carmilla said. 

Yeah, she was doing it. 

“Carmilla, where are you--” 

“Stop talking before I decide not to be a good person, okay?” 

Laura stopped. Carmilla walked into the kitchen. She checked the oven. Perfect. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Elsie, if anyone asks,” Carmilla grabbed oven mitts, “I wasn’t here.” 

“You’re...stealing a pot pie?” 

Carmilla held it up. “I am not ‘stealing it.’ We can’t sell it.” 

“Why not?” 

Carmilla didn’t say anything. She grabbed a ladle and smashed the middle of the pie. 

“What the Hell are you _doing?”_

“Oh no,” Carmilla said dryly, “we can’t serve this, the crust is ruined. It would be an embarrassment.” 

“...I do not know what you are smoking today, Carmilla, but I’m just gonna stay out of it.” 

Carmilla walked out and gave Laura the pie. 

“A...pot pie...thank you…?” 

“Danny is on break,” Carmilla said, “you can go over and--hold on,” Carmilla wrote down the address and tore off the piece of paper from her notepad, “give it to her and say the crust is ruined, so she can have it if she wants. Perry’s orders. It’ll be a good break from all the sugary shit they’ve been eating.” 

“ _Perry’s_ orders?” Laura asked pointedly. 

“ _Don’t_ make a big deal out of it, please,” Carmilla grumbled, “and you better hurry if you want them to have time to eat it.” 

The side of Laura’s mouth curled upward in a lopsided smile before it fell again. “Sure,” she said, obviously trying to follow Carmilla’s request, “uh, thanks.” 

She held it carefully in her arms and walked out. Ell looked confused before leaving the cash register to help Laura open the door. 

“Um, Carmilla, did Laura just buy an entire chicken pot pie?” She asked, walking over to her with her hands on her hips. 

“It’s for Danny.” 

“Well, I guess the way to a lady’s heart is through her stomach…” 

“Shut up,” Carmilla answered, “besides, if that were true Laura would be _madly_ in love with me right now. Your logic is flawed.” 

Ell raised her hands. “Sorry?” She blinked and added tentatively, “do you... _want_ Laura to be madly in love with you?” 

“What? No!” Carmilla winced when she answered a little too loudly and too quickly. “Of course I don’t,” Carmilla scoffed, “she’s gotten a little less annoying, but I would never date Laura in a million--no, a billion years.” 

Ell visibly relaxed. “Well, good, I guess.” 

Carmilla, trying to find a way to change the subject, put a hand on Ell’s arm. “Hey, are you going to stay after closing tonight?” 

“Why?” 

“If you’d rather not hang around everyone, we can just be lazy and eat a shit ton of pie at your house.” 

Ell bit her lip. “I’m not the one trying to sell Perry’s diner.” 

“I know.” 

“Don’t not hang out with Betty for me. I’ll stay,” Ell smiled, “besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I pretty much only hang out with you anyway.” 

“You need more friends. You’re _way_ more qualified to have them, personality wise.” 

Ell looked like she wanted to say something else, then changed her mind at the last second. “...I’ll talk to you more after work, okay?” 

“Sure, Cinnabon.” 

Carmilla rubbed her hands together and looked back at the kitchen. Back to work--which meant having to start another pot pie from scratch, because Perry most certainly did _not_ tell Carmilla she could give one away. 

***

Her new recipe was another she wanted Laura to try--all her new recipes were for Laura to try, which made Carmilla want to tear her hair out. No matter how hard she tried, the thought always entered her head at some point-- _what would make Laura love this?_

Not that she wasn’t making some kick ass desserts. Being Laura Hollis Approved was not a bad thing to use as a measure of quality. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying for Carmilla to feel all hot and bothered for some Yankee that was going to blow them all off at the end of the summer anyway. 

She pulled her latest cupcakes out of the oven and reached for a pastry bag she’d filled with frosting. After making sure the piping nozzle was on tight, Carmilla started carefully applying the buttercream--

“Carmilla?” 

“Hey!” 

She turned around. “...Danny. Can you watch it, I have to refrost those cupcakes now.”

Danny looked like she was trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry, just...I know this shouldn’t be funny to me anymore, but it’s you baking cupcakes and getting all serious over your frosting.” 

“Are you going to let me finish or not?” 

“I wanted to talk to you.” 

“...Okay. What?” 

Danny rubbed the back of her neck, looked down at the floor, and looked back up. Before she lost her nerve, she walked forward and enveloped Carmilla in a hug. 

“Are you trying to _kill_ me?” 

“Laura told me what you did,” Danny said, “thank you. I mean, don’t do it again, but thank you.” 

Carmilla frowned. “I told her not to say anything.” 

Danny let go. “Yeah, well, Laura didn’t want you to know she told me, so you’re even I guess. Carmilla, seriously, thanks.” 

Carmilla sighed, averting her gaze. “No problem,” she said, “were the ankle biters happy with it?” 

“They were just happy it was something savory and still fresh,” Danny answered, “And I mean, it wasn’t exactly _healthy_ since it was all buttery crust and gravy, but it’s still the first vegetables they’ve eaten in weeks…” 

“Well, tell me if you ever need me to bake an orange pie to keep them from getting scurvy--and _Christ._ ” 

Danny had squeezed the pastry bag Carmilla was holding between them. “...I’m going to need to clean that up. Go ahead and tell everyone outside it’ll be a second.” 

“Sure. And hey--” 

“Thanks, thanks, you owe me one, I am the absolute _shit,_ I know.” 

Carmilla grabbed the bowl of buttercream, refilled the pastry bag, and finally frosted the cupcakes. She kicked the door open, holding the tray of cupcakes in her hands. Laura was sitting at the counter talking to Betty. 

“Hey, Cupcake,” Carmilla dropped the tray unceremoniously, “cupcakes.” 

“...I’ll leave you with your date, Laura.” 

“Shut up Betty,” Carmilla and Laura said at the same time, then looked at each other. 

Betty raised an eyebrow. “I was talking about the cupcakes, Carmilla, not _you_.” 

Laura pouted, grabbing one. Betty got up to join Kirsch and Elsie at the other end of the counter. 

“What is this?” 

“Chocolate, peanut butter buttercream frosting.” 

Laura ripped off the bottom, sandwiching the cupcake and taking a bite. “ _God,_ this makes me want to quit med school, enroll in culinary school, and accumulate massive debt just so I can learn how to make these myself. What do you call this?” 

“‘You can’t keep your mouth shut cupcake’.” 

“Wha--oh. Danny told you, didn’t she?” 

“I told you to say it was Perry’s idea.” 

“First of all, that’s a terrible plan. Danny would have thanked her because she’s nice and Perry would have had no idea what she was talking about. Second, what’s your problem with her knowing?” 

Carmilla tapped her fingers against the counter. “I don’t know, I just...I have a reputation.” 

“For being all broody and disaffected which, for some reason, makes you popular around town?” 

“Bingo.” 

Laura smiled sheepishly. “What can I say? I just really liked seeing you be a good person.” 

Carmilla could feel her face heating up. “Uh, Cupcake, you’ve got frosting on your teeth.” 

It should have been gross. Carmilla thought it was kind of cute. What the Hell was wrong with her? 

“ _Ew,_ thanks.” Laura swallowed, running her tongue along her upper teeth. “Talk about embarrassing. Um. But it was really nice of you to do that for Danny.” 

“I don’t even know why you’re giving me so much credit. I was doing it for _you_.” 

As soon as Carmilla said it, she seriously considered grabbing a fork and stabbing her hand just to change the subject. Laura’s eyes widened. 

“You did it for _me.”_

Carmilla tried to play it off. “Well, whatever, you were just going _on_ and _on_ about poor Danny and how you wanted to help--so yeah. I shut you up. Big deal.” 

Laura was smiling at her. She was _smiling_ at her and didn’t look like she was buying it at all, which was simultaneously the last and first reaction Carmilla wanted. 

“I have decided,” Laura stated, “you are officially a good person.” 

“Wow, I am so _honored_ for you to recognize my worth.” 

“I was joking--what I mean is that--” 

“Guys?” Ell sat down on the stool next to Laura. “Ooooh, cupcakes!” She grabbed one and took a bite. Ell looked between them, swallowing and asking, “so what are you guys talking about?” 

“I was just saying that this peanut butter buttercream Carmilla made is to die for.” 

“It _is!”_

Carmilla shrugged. “What can I say?” 

“Well, maybe not _die,_ but I would definitely _hide_ a body for this cupcake,” Laura offered, eliciting a laugh from Ell. 

“Okay, depends on whose body it is though,” Carmilla added. She grabbed a cupcake and grinned at Laura before taking a bite. 

“We’re not the ones...it’s not _our_ fault that there’s a body, right?” Ell asked tentatively. 

“No, we’re just accessories after the fact,” Laura answered. 

Ell looked slightly bothered by the conversation, instead focusing on her cupcake. 

“No one at the diner,” Carmilla continued, “maybe those lawyers.” 

“Mel was Danny’s friend though.” 

“The other douchey looking guy, at least.” 

“He _was._ ” 

“I’ll eat another cupcake to that.” 

Laura and Carmilla both grabbed one, taking a bite at the same time. Laura chewed thoughtfully before she looked at Carmilla with alarm. 

“What, Cupcake?” 

“We’re _friends_ now, aren’t we?” 

Carmilla blinked. Laura looked genuinely surprised at the sudden revelation and honestly, Carmilla was too. They’d been on fairly good terms, but having them officially proclaim it was a little different. And a lot nicer than what they were before. 

“I guess we are.” 

Ell was beaming at them proudly. “I can’t believe I have witnessed this with my own two eyes! This calls for _more cupcakes._ ” 

“I have to finish this one first.” 

“Eh, we can always double fist it.” Carmilla grabbed another cupcake. And--because they apparently were friends now--Carmilla winked at Laura before she took a bite. 


	11. Thanks Doc

“You’re giving me a cupcake for _breakfast?”_ Laura asked. 

“Just trust me, Cupcake,” Carmilla answered, hiding her hands behind her back and grinning at Laura. 

“Okay?” 

Carmilla showed Laura the cupcake. “Behold, the pancake cupcake.” 

Laura almost squealed with delight. Stacked on top of the buttercream frosting were three fluffy looking silver dollar pancakes, the entire thing dripping with syrup and butter. 

“ _Holy Hufflepuff.”_

“Like it?” 

“Give it!” 

Carmilla watched amusedly as Laura took the cupcake from her hands and bit into it. 

“Wow, Cupcake, stop to breathe before you choke.” 

“Carm, you outdid yourself. Which is what I said yesterday and the day before that, I know, but still. What is this frosting?” 

“Maple bacon buttercream.” She tilted her head. “Did you just call me ‘Carm?’” 

Laura was delicately licking icing off her fingers. Carmilla tried not to stare. “At least I waited until we were friends to start using nicknames.” 

She kept eating the cupcake, and when she realized Carmilla hadn’t left, she looked at her bemusedly. “Yes?” 

“What?” 

“You’re watching me and not saying anything,” Laura wrinkled her nose. “Do I have frosting on my face?” 

Carmilla shook her head. “No, you’re fine. You just look…cute.” 

“ _Cute_.” 

Carmilla thought it over and nodded. “Yeah. You’re cute.” 

“No flirting with customers on the job, Carmilla,” Perry said dryly, walking past her. Carmilla frowned at her. 

“That was _not_ flirting,” Carmilla answered. 

“Do you call everyone ‘cute’ Carmilla?” Perry asked, turning around to face her. 

“I dunno, I’d call Ell cute.” 

“That’s _Ell.”_

Carmilla looked over at Ell, who was getting flustered trying to count a customer’s change. The cash drawer shot out with a _bing_ and Ell squeaked out ‘sorry!’ when it hit her in the stomach. 

“Okay, she is the most naturally adorable human being on the planet, but that doesn’t mean other girls can’t be objectively cute.” 

“I’m right here,’ you know,” Laura said. 

“Believe me, Laura, if I were flirting you would know it.” 

“Oh, sure. What exactly would that look like?” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Observe.” 

She leaned, resting her elbows on the counter. She flashed a cheesy grin at Laura and asked, “come here often, sweetheart?” 

Laura could feel herself start to turn red, but she also burst into laughter. 

“Just get to work, Carmilla,” Perry said. 

She flashed a devil’s horn sign. “Sure.” 

Laura raised her half eaten cupcake. “Sorry, Perry, I won’t distract her anymore.” 

Perry squinted. “Carmilla, you need to stop baking in our kitchen unless it’s things we’re _selling._ You have an oven at home.” 

“Since when was that a problem?” 

“Since we have rising food costs because you eat half of what you make with our ingredients.” 

“Well you cut my pay, so it’s not exactly easy for me to buy my own.” 

They stared each other down before Perry sighed, turning on her heel and walking away. 

“You know,” Laura said gently, “Perry pretty obviously feels bad about it.” 

“We all feel bad for it. I have the right to be in a bad mood too,” Carmilla answered. 

A thought occurred to Laura, making her brow furrow. “So you haven’t shown Perry these recipes?” 

In fact, Laura realized she never saw any on display. There would always be cupcakes for her to take home, but none ready to be sold. 

Carmilla’s eyes widened for a moment before she shook her head. “No, not yet.” 

“But they would be so good on the menu!” Laura exclaimed, “You could make money!” 

“...I appreciate the thought but I don’t think that’s going to make much of a difference,” Carmilla answered.

 

“Isn’t it worth a try, though? You haven’t just been making these because I like them, have you?” 

Laura meant that rhetorically, but when she saw the look on Carmilla’s face, her mouth opened. “You _have?”_

“I never said that.” 

“You have been baking me cupcakes. I knew you were secretly a nice person, but... _wow._ ” 

“Look, I like to experiment in the kitchen, okay? And you happen to be a very willing guinea pig. Even Perry gets tired of all the sugary food after awhile.” 

She was stammering out the excuse and Laura couldn’t help but find it endearing, that Carmilla seemed _incapable_ of admitting that maybe they both liked each other a little more than they did at first. It was confusing, and Laura didn’t mind. 

“I won’t tell anyone you’re secretly a big softie who likes to make people food,” Laura said, smiling teasingly. 

“It isn’t like I can offer much else,” Carmilla mumbled. Laura frowned a little at it, but before she could reply, Carmilla slapped a palm on the counter. “I have to get back to work. There’s a blueberry pie in the oven.” 

Carmilla was telling the truth, Laura knew this, but it didn’t make her feel any less like she was being avoided. And Laura _hated_ being avoided. She had just started getting comfortable considering Carmilla a friend. If she was upset Laura wanted to help her, whether she wanted the help or not. 

Although, it was hard to tell when Carmilla was _actually_ upset, since she always acted a bit surly…

She pressed her cheek against her hand, resting her elbow on the counter and throwing the last of her cupcake into her mouth. 

***

It was exactly the kind of luck she was likely to have. Grow up in a town with a severe lack of dating options, and when she finally had a promising prospect move in, she had to be completely unattainable. 

Moving back north at the end of the summer. And besides that, a future doctor on the honor roll. Carmilla only had to take one look down at her flour dusted uniform to know why there was no chance in Hell she’d be Laura’s type. Not that she was _really_ Carmilla’s type anyway. It was a tiny crush because Laura was cute and kind of made Carmilla feel good about herself once. That was it. 

Carmilla kept repeating it to herself as she weaved around Kirsch and Elsie in the kitchen. “Hey guys, just grabbing the pie--”

She opened the door and grabbed the dish, immediately yelping and dropping it. _“Fuck!”_

“Hey! Carm-sexy, you alright bro? Dang, someone’s gonna have to clean that up.” 

The pie was spilled all over the floor; Danny stopped mid cracking an egg to look over. 

“Jesus, Karnstein. Did you seriously forget to put on oven mitts?” 

Carmilla’s face started to burn. 

“What had you so distracted?” Elsie asked. 

“Shut up,” Carmilla snapped, “nothing. Kirsch, clean this up. I have to go back to work.” 

“But you--” 

Carmilla glared at him until he backed down. “...I’ll get a mop, bro.” 

“Thanks.” 

She shook her hand out, took a deep breath, and sucked up the pain so she could leave the kitchen to avoid further embarrassment. Carmilla purposefully avoided looking at Laura and tried to concentrate on her work. 

After a few minutes her hand started to burn. Carmilla ignored it. She had her hand on the pie tin for a second. It wasn’t going to hurt for that long. 

She grimaced her way through several orders, stopping to catch her breath and cradled her hand against her chest. Carmilla looked down at the now red mark across her palm. 

“Hey, Carmilla.” 

She looked up. “Cupcake, hey...sorry for running off.” 

Laura walked up to her, shrugging. “It’s okay. I know you have work. I just wanted to say I’m going. I’ll see you tomorrow when you deliver Gran her pie, right?” 

“Of course. I’m nothing if not reliable.” 

Laura looked like she was about to turn away when her eyes caught Carmilla’s hand. “What happened to your hand?” 

She put her hands in her pockets. “It’s fine. Just a burn. “

“Did you treat it?” 

“What?”

“It can get infected if you don’t treat it,” Laura answered, “is there a first aid kit? I can help you.” 

Laura’s eyes were soft and filled with concern. Carmilla hadn’t taken her break yet. “Weren’t you leaving?” 

Still, she wasn’t going to seem too eager. Laura put her hands on her hips. 

“Carmilla Karnstein, I am training to be a medical professional. I can’t just walk away and leave someone with an untreated injury!” 

“Yes, clearly without your expertise we may need to amputate.” 

Laura responded by grabbing Carmilla’s arm. “Just come with me into the bathroom.” 

Carmilla sighed, but followed without protest. Laura turned on the faucet and guided Carmilla’s hand under it. 

“So, fun fact about burns,” Laura said, “a lot of people want to put ice on it, but it’s actually better to just do cool water. Keep it there for at least ten minutes while I go find where you put the first aid kit.” 

“Kitchen,” Carmilla called after Laura. She wiggled her fingers experimentally under the stream of water, the pain starting to subside somewhat. The edge of the counter pressed into Carmilla’s abdomen while she leaned over the sink. 

“Okay,” Laura burst back in, “dry your hand off and turn around.” 

Carmilla listened, hopping onto the counter and holding out her arm, palm facing the ceiling. Laura took her hand. 

“Yeah, it’s first degree,” Laura said, “it should be fine. I’ll put some petroleum jelly on it and a gauze just to be safe though.” 

Laura held Carmilla’s wrist with one hand while the other searched through the first aid kit, thumb pressed where she could have felt Carmilla’s pulse. She hoped Laura wouldn’t pick up on her heartbeat quickening. She swallowed. 

“Um...thanks, Cupcake.” 

“No problem. What else are doctors for?” 

She bit her lip, focusing on smearing a thin layer of petroleum jelly on the burn. “It might itch a little as it heals,” Laura continued, “just don’t scratch. Especially if there’s a blister. We don’t want you to get an infection.” 

Carmilla was slightly amused by Laura’s voice taking on a clinical, faux concerned tone. Her doctor voice. “Glad you’re so concerned about me, Doc.” 

“Well, if you lose your hand from infection it’ll be harder for you to bake,” Laura answered, pressing a gauze pad to Carmilla palm. “Losing this hand,” she wrapped a bandage around the gauze, “would be like a master painter losing his ability to see. Or a composer losing his ability to hear.” 

“You mean like Beethoven when he wrote his ninth symphony?” 

“Okay, it’s possible but _way_ harder.” Laura laughed. “A diner waitress is the last person I would have expected to know about 19th century composers.” 

There was an awkward pause and Laura cleared her throat. 

“I--I’m sorry, that came out sounding really bad. I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“You’re fine,” Carmilla answered, and added, “you should hear me when I get going on Brahms.” 

“Really?” 

“Naw, I don’t know shit about any other composers.”

Laura laughed again. Her laughter trailed off and she added, “you _do_ know I don’t think of you like that, right?” 

“Appreciate it.” 

Laura locked eyes with Carmilla, still holding her hand with one grabbing her wrist and the other with her thumb pressed to the gauze pad she’d wrapped around it. “...Okay, your hand should be good now.” 

The color of her eyes reminded Carmilla of the whiskey Laura brought the first time she came to the diner after hours. She swallowed as subtly as she could and answered, “thank you.” 

Laura let go. “Of course, Carmilla.” She held her gaze for a second longer before getting up, giving a short awkward wave, and leaving the bathroom. Carmilla waited a minute, long enough to make sure Laura was gone, before leaving herself. 

***

The lemon meringue pie was going to be the Wednesday special, which was how she managed to get the OK from Perry to use the kitchen. The moment she threw the pie on the table, she walked outside and leaned against the outer wall of the diner. Carmilla dug into her pocket, taking out a cigarette. She fished for the lighter. 

“Looking for this?” 

Carmilla looked at Ell. “Hey. Lighter?” 

“You left it inside.” 

Carmilla reached for it and Carmilla pulled back. “Ell?” 

“You only smoke when you’re thinking about something,” Ell said. 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. Ell begrudgingly placed the lighter in her hand. 

“Thanks.” 

“You bailed on me.” 

“I thought you’d find me. And I was right, wasn’t I?” 

She lit the cigarette. Ell wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I gave you the lighter, so you owe me. What are you thinking about?” 

“Why?” 

Ell shrugged. She watched patiently, until Carmilla finally sighed. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Ell, but things are getting kind of heavy around here.” 

“Of course I’ve noticed. Perry keeps looking at me like I’m a double agent.” 

“Can you blame me for thinking about things then? This place has been my life for ten years. If I don’t have this job I will have literally nothing to show for my life.” 

“Oh, I get it.” Ell nodded. “You’re getting into one of those early twenties mid life crisis things again.” 

“Goddammit Ell,” Carmilla answered, though sounding more tired than angry, “look at what we’re doing. No college. Barely any disposable income. A complete lack of prospects. We’ve never spent more than a night out of town, for fuck’s sake, doesn’t that bother you a _little?”_

“Well, you have,” Ell pointed out. 

“You know that doesn’t count.” 

Ell blew out a breath. “Look, I know Laura is from New York and she’s probably going to become a super rich doctor and everything, but that doesn’t mean you have to feel bad about yourself. Right?” 

“You think this is about her making me insecure or something?” 

“Since she showed up you’ve hated your life more than usual.” 

Carmilla shook her head and breathed the smoke from her cigarette. “Okay, she has made me think about it more,” Carmilla admitted, “but this isn’t the first time you’ve heard this from me. Ell, you are likely to spend the rest of your life here. That can’t make you _happy._ ” 

She blew smoke into the air. Ell watched it curl up, biting her lip. 

“You know my dad liked to smoke a lot. Cigars and stuff. Mom told him he couldn’t do it around me, so he’d go outside, and I could see the smoke when it rose past my window.” 

Carmilla looked at her. “And?” 

“This place was important to them,” Ell said, “this town was. They lived in _Birmingham,_ did you know that? But they wanted to raise me here instead. And I _like_ it here. I really do. I like working at the diner when everyone isn’t acting weird around me. I couldn’t leave.”

They’d had variations on this conversation for as long as Carmilla could remember. It was the most frustrating thing about Ell. No matter how close they were she just didn’t get it. 

“Well, excuse me for not wanting to die a waitress and single,” Carmilla huffed, shaking her head. 

“You know…” Ell bit her lip. “We could make a deal?” 

“Deal?” 

“Yeah. Like, if we’re both single by the time we’re thirty, we marry each other.” 

Carmilla tilted her head. “Seriously?” 

“We’re best friends, and it’s not like there’s any other options.” 

An image of Laura flashed through Carmilla’s mind and she shook her head to dispel it. Ell _was_ Carmilla’s best friend. And she had a point. Laura was not an option. She _wasn’t._

And if she was going to die unhappy and unfulfilled, she at least could have someone to complain about it with. 

“Alright. See you in eight years.” 

Ell smiled. “Wow, we need to start planning.” 

Carmilla laughed quietly. “Everyone is going to think it’s so romantic.” 

“I heard Kirsch made a bet and he’s gonna have to owe Betty ten dollars.” 

“Wow, in eight years she can buy a box of oreos or something.” 

Ell laughed. “Can we go back inside now?” 

“Yeah,” Carmilla dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her shoe. “Let’s go.” 

She almost forgot about Mrs. Cochrane’s pie, anyway. 

***

“Frankly, Laura, I’m surprised the diner has lasted as long as it has.” 

“Gran!” Laura gasped, “how can you say that? I thought you loved the diner.” 

Laura was cleaning. Carmilla usually stopped by the diner by now with her weekly delivery of pie, and of course Gran needed her rest, so it was up to Laura to make sure everything looked presentable. Which meant vacuuming. Both their voices were raised as Laura dragged the old and rather heavy vacuum around the living room. 

“I _do,_ but it also has not been renovated since I was working there,” she answered, “the Perry’s never cared much about presentation as long as the food was good. The whole place is held together by glue and a prayer. Of course no one new is coming. This whole thing with Cornelius was just the final nail in its coffin.” 

“You’re like, the only guy that calls him Cornelius.” 

She shrugged. “We have known each other for a long time. And he was always an ass.” 

“I like it there,” Laura continued, “I wish there was something I could do to help.” 

“You know, this is the first time I think I’ve ever seen you clean,” Gran lifted her feet so Laura could vacuum in front of the couch, “why the sudden interest in making everything spotless?” 

“We’re going to have company in a few minutes.” 

Laura pouted at her grandmother’s smirk. “Don’t give me that look. We’re friends now and I’d rather not make her visit a house with a dirty rug.” 

“I think the rug is the last thing she’s going to have her eyes on, dear,” she answered, smile widening. Laura turned a shade darker. 

“ _Please_ don’t do that while she’s here.” 

“You know she’s been here before.” 

“Well--yes, but--before I wasn’t trying to make a good impression, okay? I’m trying to make up for weeks worth of unwelcoming behavior.” 

“Don’t let me stop you, then.” 

A knock on the door made Laura drop the vacuum where it was, stopping to unplug the power cord when she realized she never turned it off. She threw open the door with a smile. 

“Hey, Carmilla, come in!” 

Carmilla looked surprised. “Uh...hey.” She raised her pie tin a little. “I kind of made it last minute so it’s just apple.” 

“ _Just_ apple?” Laura grabbed the pie and Carmilla followed her, strolling inside with her hands in her pockets. “I love apple pie. Nothing you make is _just_ anyway.” 

“Wow,” Carmilla sat down on the couch, while Laura busied herself with putting the pie on the coffee table and grabbing glasses from the kitchen. “Trying to butter me up, Cupcake?” 

“The only thing that better be buttered up is that pie crust.” 

Carmilla looked at Mrs. Cochrane. “I give that joke a four.” 

“I agree. That wasn’t your best, Laura.” 

“Well excuse me for not being a professional comedian!” Laura huffed, putting down glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. 

“What about plates?” 

“Plates?” Laura produced three forks, “who cares about plates? It’s more fun to just dig in!” 

Laura squeezed between Carmilla and her grandmother on the couch, digging her fork into the center of the pie. She took a bite and sighed happily.

“I’m not about to argue,” Carmilla said. She broke off a piece of the crust and started nibbling. 

“That is so weird.” 

“The edge of the crust is the best part.”

“Use your fork like a normal person, Carmilla,” Mrs. Cochrane chastised, and Carmilla looked inconvenienced but listened, nonetheless. 

There was silence. Laura realized that their conversations so far without Ell as a go-between had been mainly reserved for not flirting (definitely not at all) over pie and cupcakes. Then Carmilla could run off to work and they didn’t have to try and make small talk. 

Except now Laura actually wanted to make an effort to talk. And there was only so much she could say about pie. 

“...So!” Carmilla and Laura both looked at Mrs. Cochrane. “Carmilla, Laura told me about how you and Ell took her firefly catching. I wanted to thank you.” 

“Uh...it wasn’t a big deal. Ell and Laura are friends anyway...and I think she’s alright, I guess.” 

Laura pouted at her. Carmilla smirked back. 

“That isn’t why. I have a million old mason jars and now Laura found a use for them.” 

“Really?” 

Laura smiled sheepishly. “It’s something to do,” she said, “I caught some of them and put the jars on the bookshelf.” 

They were all still eating the pie between sentences, the entire thing now a mess. Carmilla looked down at her. “Wow, we did a number on this. It looks like someone dropped it on the sidewalk and scooped into a pan.” 

Laura frowned. “I want to finish it because we don’t really have room in the fridge for it but eating pie until I’m sick is probably a bad idea long term.” 

Carmilla looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Mrs. C, still have any jars?” 

“Cabinet above the sink?” 

It was easy enough to guess what Carmilla was going to do. She got up, grabbed one of the mason jars from the cabinet, and came back, scooping the remaining pie into it. 

“Try this,” she said, “it’ll be easier to fit.” 

“That’s...actually a really good idea,” Laura said. 

“I’m full of them.” Carmilla jokingly threw them a two fingered salute. “Got to go back to work. See you both next week.” 

Laura waved at Carmilla as she walked out. She looked at the jar Carmilla placed on the coffee table, picked it up, and turned it in her hands. 

“Laura, what is it?” 

“Nothing. Just...admiring it.” 

Her grandmother laughed. “Admiring the jar of pie?” 

“It looks good!” 

In fact, it looked really, _really_ good. Laura stood up. 

“Gran, I’ll be right back,” Laura said, “I need to grab my laptop to do some research.” 


	12. It's a Good Idea

The best day of the week to work had become Saturdays. It used to be Carmilla's least favorite, because it was the busiest day, and that was the exact reason she preferred it now. As sad as it was, working at the diner was the most interesting thing Carmilla did. Saturday was the only day where she didn't have long stretches of absolutely nothing to do. 

At the moment she was dealing with a customer that was particularly difficult. He asked for eggs--the eggs were too runny. He wanted toast--the toast was too brown. He wanted chicken fried steak--that was too pink in the middle. Carmilla had finally settled on getting him a free slice of pie just to get him to shut up. 

"Excuse me, Miss?" 

Carmilla plastered her work smile on, walking back toward the table. "Yes, Sir?" 

"I'm not happy with this pie."

Carmilla's face twitched. "Not happy? What's wrong with it?" 

"Look at it. This crust is burnt. And I asked for blueberry, not cherry." 

She'd never had high tolerance for annoying customers, but she usually managed to keep her composure until they were gone and she could complain to Ell or Betty about it. It was one thing to bitch about Danny's admittedly not stellar cooking skills, anyway. But to complain about Carmilla's baking? That was blasphemous. 

"That is not burnt, that's golden brown, you jackass," Carmilla snapped, "and if I gave you one that wasn't 'burnt', you'd complain it was undercooked. And if I gave you one that wasn't undercooked you'd probably say you asked me for cake! If you don't want to put the pie in your mouth you could always shove it up your--" 

"Carmilla!" Betty physically pushed her out of the way. The customer looked almost too dumbfounded to be angry.

"Sorry," Betty said, "we don't even know who that woman is. Some crazy lady who pretends to work here sometimes. We know it's nuts but hey, it gives the place character, right? Haha." 

She talked to the customer for a few more minutes. He finally got up and left. Betty wiped her brow and glared at Carmilla. 

"Betty--" 

"Carmilla, I know you're an asshole--it's one of your more charming qualities--but that was over the top even for you. We're trying to get more new people to come here." 

"Betty, he made me take food back to the kitchen three times. And then he called my pie overcooked."

"He was also this close to making me call Perry and getting your ass fired." 

"Please," Carmilla scoffed, "like she would fire me." 

"You better hope he doesn't go on Yelp." 

"That guy was so stupid I doubt he knows what a computer is." 

"Whatever," Betty continued, "just calm it down, okay?" 

Carmilla rolled her eyes, which Betty decided was the best response she would get. She shook her head and walked away to cover another table. Carmilla walked over to the counter, pouring herself a glass of iced tea. She didn't care if people were waiting--she needed a drink, even if it wasn't alcohol. 

"Carmilla!" 

"Betty, what now--oh." Carmilla smiled. "Hey, what's up Doc?" 

Laura frowned slightly. "Okay, let's kill that nickname with fire, please? Cupcake is bad enough already." 

"Sorry, no cupcake for you at the moment," Carmilla grabbed a rag and a spray bottle from under the counter, to give her an excuse not to wait tables. "Saturday mornings are always busy."

"That's fine." Laura sat down. "Is Perry in the back?" 

"She's not here," Carmilla answered, "LaFontaine did us all a favor and forced her to stay home and relax. Or at least relax enough that she won't explode from stress. That would be bad for business." 

"Do you know when she's coming back? I need to talk to her." 

Carmilla noticed that Laura placed what looked to be a binder on the table, and she had a plastic bag she laid next to her seat. Carmilla raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Why...?" 

"It's about the diner." Laura looked excited. She squirmed in her seat and finally blurted out, "you know what? Why am I even keeping it a secret? Look." 

Carmilla took the binder and flipped it open. "What is this?" 

"Me crunching some numbers." 

"You did this all...?" 

"I've been working on it the past three days." 

Carmilla was not quite sure what she was looking at. She held the book, tilting it at different angles as if that would magically make it more understandable. 

"It's a business model," Laura supplied. 

"For what?” 

“Okay, so I was talking to Gran,” Laura explained, “about the diner, and how people have stopped visiting Silas and that means no new customers, right? So I thought, well, what if you didn’t new customers to come to the diner. What if you can just bring stuff to them?" 

"So like...online...?" 

"Remember when you put that pie in a jar for me? Imagine selling those. It would be so popular! I know I would buy, like, fifty jars worth of pie so I can walk around town with a spoon and eat it." 

Carmilla ran a finger down the page, starting to make sense of the numbers and figures. "How the Hell would that work?" 

"You can totally ship food through UPS. Okay. So for my birthday last year, my dad bought me pretty much the exact thing I'm talking about. You throw in the batter and layer it with frosting and it's delicious. There are other companies that already do the same thing. I’ve done the research!" 

Laura was grinning, nodding enthusiastically, doing everything she could to sway Carmilla’s unreadable expression. Her smile faltered when Carmilla closed the book and shook her head. 

“There is no way we could do this, Cupcake.” 

“Well why not?” 

“We don’t have a website.” 

“So we make one! We have a law school dropout and a Princeton dropout, I think together we can figure out how to build a website. Or we can like, hire someone else or something--”

“We don’t have _money._ ” 

“You have to spend money to make money!” 

“How the fuck are we going to fill orders and run a restaurant at the same time?” 

“So we all have to pitch in. It’s not like we get tons of business to worry about anyway, right?” 

“...’We.’” 

Laura nodded. “I’ll help. I _can_ help! I spend so much time here, I feel like I work here anyway. Carmilla, I really think this could work. We have something other companies don’t.” 

Carmilla crossed her arms. “What? ‘Heart?’” 

“No, we have _you._ You are the best baker I have ever met, Carmilla. Or like, you bake the best things I’ve ever tasted. I don’t know how many bakers I’ve met personally…” 

Carmilla’s arms fell at her sides again. She looked at Laura incredulously. “What is wrong with you?” 

Laura’s jaw dropped. “What did I say?” 

“You’re going to try to convince my boss to take a _huge_ risk that will totally bankrupt us if it fails. At the end of the summer you get to go back home, and we’ll just be some fun summer memory you can laugh about with all your friends. None of this matters to you. It’s easy to say we need to ‘spend money to make money’ when your entire life doesn’t depend on whether or not it works.” 

Laura’s brow furrowed, frown deepening. She got up and Carmilla watched as she walked behind the counter. “Will you stop saying that?” Laura asked, “This business means a lot to my family. There are pictures of my _mother_ hanging up on the wall, Carmilla! How can you say I don’t think it’s a big deal if it closes down?”

Carmilla gently bit her lower lip. 

“And besides,” Laura continued, “even if _I_ didn’t care...I see how much Perry cares about it. I see how hard Danny works here to support her family. I’ve seen how everyone has become like a family because they work here. It doesn’t matter how small of a town it is. This place matters. It matters to my friends. Including _you,_ you know. You matter and if this place is important to you, of course I’d want to help.” 

Laura was staring at Carmilla defiantly with her chin raised, arms crossed. 

“I matter,” Carmilla said. 

“Yes, you matter. Of _course_ you do. I don’t understand you, Carmilla. You act so confident that it’s infuriating, but you’re still so much more than you give yourself credit for--” 

Laura stumbled backwards slightly from the force of Carmilla’s hug. She looked thoroughly confused for a moment before patting Carmilla on the back. 

“Thank you,” Carmilla mumbled.

“Uh...no problem, Carm...seriously. It’s really not hard for me.” 

Carmilla was still holding Laura at arm’s length. They looked at each other for a beat before Carmilla let go, rubbing the back of her neck and blushing. 

“So...can I get you anything to eat?” 

“I--I don’t know.” 

“...You don’t know?” 

“I mean, I don’t know if I have _time._ I need to go pick Gran up from the doctor...sorry. Rain check on that?” 

“Sure. Sure, raincheck.” 

She left. Carmilla leaned her back against the counter, closing her eyes. 

_Having Feelings for Laura is a Terrible Idea Pie. Take durian fruit and process it with banana, dates, and coconut until smooth and fill a crust of dried coconut and flaxseed. Drizzle the top with thick caramel and let it chill for two hours._

_It smells disgusting but dammit, it looks so good you can’t help but want a slice…_

***

Walking helped clear Laura’s head. It was best to do it in the evening; it was cooler then (although it never seemed to be cool in Silas, unfortunately) and when the fireflies started coming out, it was kind of pretty too. Walking was also technically exercise, which was also how Laura forgave herself for subsisting on a diet of baked goods and potato chips. 

Her thoughts turned to Carmilla; they were always turning to Carmilla. Especially considering the way she had acted. Giving Laura a bear hug because she said Carmilla wasn’t insignificant was, honestly, kind of sad. It also confirmed with Laura suspected; Carmilla was seriously overcompensating with that broody disaffected attitude. Honestly, it made Laura want to give Carmilla a hug, never let go and _make_ her see how special she was--

Laura stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Where did _that_ come from? 

“Hey, Laura!” 

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked across the street, to where Ell was sitting on the porch of a small house with...Carmilla. 

“Um, Ell, Carmilla, hey!” 

They were both holding glasses; Ell raised hers. “Taking a walk?” 

“Yeah!” Laura put her hands in her pockets. “You guys?” 

“Naw, we’re just sitting on the porch...although Carmilla _did_ have to walk to my house.” Ell looked at Carmilla for confirmation. She just shrugged. Laura looked across the street until Ell cleared her throat. “Come over!” 

“Me?” 

“‘Course. I made lemonade. We’re celebrating!” 

Laura smiled, looking both ways before crossing the street. Ell and Carmilla were sitting close enough that their knees were touching, and Ell nudged Carmilla over to give her room. 

“What are we celebrating…?” 

“You didn’t tell her?” Ell asked. 

“Cinnabon, you’re the first person I told.” 

Ell put an arm around her friend. “Carmilla entered the Lustig County Pie Contest!”

Laura shifted so she was turned toward them, looking past Ell at Carmilla. “Are you serious? You are?” 

Carmilla balanced the glass between her knees, raising her hands. “Guilty as charged.” 

“Hey, Laura, you want a glass? Celebrate with us!” Ell stood up. “I used the last of it, but I can mix another glass.” 

“Wow, Ell, that’s...thanks.” Laura gave Ell room as she stood up. They watched her open the front door, close it, and then looked at each other. “So...contest, huh?” 

Carmilla was looking forward, sipping her drink. “I figured with all the talk about pay cuts and being at the edge of bankruptcy, it wouldn’t be a bad idea. Cupcake?” 

“I’d love one--oh. You meant _me--_ yes, Carmilla?” 

She looked like she was struggling not to laugh. “Thanks.” 

“For what?” 

“Telling me you thought I could win.” 

“As if _you_ need to be told you could win.” 

“Still. Hearing someone else say it is nice.” 

She raked her fingers through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. Laura watched her stretch out a little on the step. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot.” 

“We’re friends now,” Laura said, “I think I’m entitled to know more about you.” 

“Hmm,” Carmilla mused, “I don’t know if you’ve necessarily unlocked my tragic backstory, Cupcake.” 

“So you admit your backstory is tragic?” 

“Joke, Cupcake. I made a joke.” 

But the way Carmilla said it did not have Laura convinced. 

“Anyway...come on. One thing I don’t already know.” 

“I’m left handed?” 

“Wait, really that’s kind of--wait, no, that does _not_ count.”

“Fine, then what would satisfy your curiosity Miss Laura Lane?” 

“...Did you just make a Lois Lane reference, because she is my idol.” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, okay. I guess...I don’t know, how about telling me why you bake?” 

“It tastes good?” 

Laura shook her head. “Come on. You don’t seem like the ‘master baker’ type. Perry, but not you.” 

“Perry is actually a good baker too--she can make a better brownie than me, oddly enough. No idea what she does but you know--” 

It was Laura’s turn to stare at Carmilla until she trailed off. She sighed and looked up at the sky again. 

“My mother baked,” Carmilla said, “we would do it together.” 

She caught the past tense. “Is she…?” 

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” Carmilla added hastily, “I mean, she doesn’t really bake much anymore. But she’s fine.” 

Laura was about to respond when Ell sat between them again, handing her a glass of lemonade. 

“Here you go, Laura. To Carmilla!” 

Laura smiled at her. “To Carmilla!” 

Carmilla looked at her glass thoughtfully and raised it. “To me,” she said, “and to Laura, the newest member of our group.” 

They clinked glasses. Carmilla stood up. 

“Sorry, Cinnabon. I have pies I need to bake for tomorrow and I have to get going.” 

Ell frowned. “Already?” 

Carmilla bent down again to give Ell a hug. “As if we don’t see each other enough,” Carmilla said, laughing, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Cinnabon. Cupcake.” 

She handed Ell back her glass--she finished the last of the lemonade in it as they both watched Carmilla walk away, Laura waving goodbye. 

“...Ell, are you okay?” 

She was biting her lip, frowning. Ell shook her head. 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure…?” 

Ell looked at Laura, not saying anything. Whatever she saw in Laura must have convinced her, because she put her glass down carefully behind her and said: 

“When Carmilla told me she entered it kind of scared me.” 

Laura sipped her lemonade. “‘Scared you?’” 

“Terrified me, to be honest.” Ell hugged her knees. “If she wins--and she could definitely win, she’s so talented--then she wins all that money. Do you know how much money that is?” 

“Twenty five thousand dollars.” 

“Twenty five thousand,” Ell repeated, “she could do whatever she wanted with that money. If Carmilla had that money, she’d leave Silas in a heartbeat. I _want_ her to win,” Ell added hastily, “I’d be a jerk if I didn’t. But she’s my best friend. I would miss her. And I, um…I want to tell her that I like her before she wins the contest and she’s gone.” 

Her face was turning red and Laura couldn’t help but smile a little at Ell’s confession...even as some part of her just wouldn’t let it sit right. 

“You sound like such a teenager right now.” 

“My parents died when I was sixteen,” Ell mumbled, “I didn’t get to have fun during my teenage crush phase. I’m making up for it.” She relaxed a little. “But _wow,_ thank you Laura. I’ve never told anyone before. Maybe it’s because you’ll be gone in a couple of months or something anyway? I don’t know. It’s really nice to be able to tell somebody though.” 

She grabbed her lemonade again and gulped it down to stop rambling. Laura put a hand on Ell’s back. 

“You should tell her,” Laura said decidedly, “you guys would be cute.” 

They made sense. Ell and Carmilla were best friends; Carmilla obviously cared about her. 

“Thanks. I keep trying to figure out the right thing to say to her. I mean, it shouldn't be so hard, but I get...nervous…” 

Laura giggled; a thought occurred to her. “You’re always writing. Is _that_ what you’re trying to write?” 

Ell’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened, then closed, and after a moment managed to say: “I don’t want to say the wrong thing. It--it never sounds right when I write it down and--yes.” 

Laura nudged her. “Okay, practicing what to say to your crush is _adorable._ I could help--” 

“No!” Ell exclaimed, “you can’t let her know _anything._ Like, _ever._ If I decide to tell her--and that’s a big if--I want it to be on my own terms, okay? _Please._ ” 

Ell clasped her hands together, and Laura smiled. “Alright, alright, I promise.” 

She nudged Laura back. “You are actually a really good friend, you know that? I, uh...I’m usually not very good at talking to people I don’t know well. But you’re nice.”

They both sipped their lemonade in comfortable silence. Despite what she said, the gears were turning in Laura’s head. Ell was the only person (besides Laura, lately) that could make Carmilla not be a jerk. She was good for her. 

Certainly better than, _hypothetically,_ someone who was going to be moving back to New York City in a few months and really should not even be considering a long term relationship when she had school and should enjoy being single for awhile and…

Laura shook her head again. 


	13. A Soft Place to Land

The best thing for Carmilla to do would be to distance herself from Laura. Stop the blatant flirting. Not talk to her as much. She thought about it while continuing to utterly fail at all three of those things. 

Perry still wasn’t talking to them. Laura had even gone so far as to knock on the door of her house, which only resulted in LaFontaine brandishing a spatula--Carmilla felt a twinge of sympathy for Perry if _LaFontaine_ was trying to cook--and stating in no uncertain terms that their wife was not allowed to so much as _think_ about the diner until she felt better. 

“You think Perry finally lost it?” Carmilla asked, sitting with Laura and Ell at the counter. They had a large plate of fries in front of them. Laura frowned as she plucked one off the plate. It was probably unhealthy to eat a large plate of fries when it was almost eleven o’clock at night, but it wasn’t like Laura had been eating particularly well anyway. 

“She probably just needed a break,” Laura said, “but...I don’t know her as well.” 

“Of _course_ not,” Ell assured her, “Carmilla is just being...you know, pessimistic. Perry is always jumpy.” She popped a fry in her mouth. “Perry needed the break anyway. She’s _never_ taken a break. I don’t think her and LaF even had a honeymoon.” 

“Wow, that’s awful,” Laura said, frowning. 

“Eh, they didn’t have enough money for one anyway,” Carmilla said, “it wasn’t like LaF thought they were getting one.” 

“No one has enough money for _anything_ in Silas,” Ell added. 

“That’s not true,” Carmilla said, “ _Laura_ has got plenty.” 

She nudged her teasingly. Laura pouted. 

“Correction,” Laura said, “I’ll have plenty of money once I repay my massive student loans. Just because I’m _going_ to have money doesn’t mean I have it _now._ ” 

Ell grinned and grabbed a ketchup bottle, squirting it into a small paper cup and reaching for the mayonnaise. Carmilla and Laura both wrinkled their noses. 

“That is so gross,” they said at the same time, and looked at each other. 

“Hey, ketchup and mayo is really popular with french fries! It’s like super creamy thousand island dressing--” 

“That’s assuming that we wouldn’t think thousand island dressing with french fries is weird,” Carmilla pointed out. Ell stuck her tongue out at Carmilla. 

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to _try,_ ” Laura offered, taking a fry and dipping it tentatively into the mixture, taking a bite. “...It actually isn’t awful.” 

“See!” 

“Put it on the menu, maybe it’s the super secret recipe we need to bring in customers.” 

“We don’t need special fry sauce,” Laura said. She put a hand on Carmilla’s shoulder. “We’ve got your baking. Just wait until the internet at large sees what you can do!” 

“‘Internet?’” 

“Ell, Carmilla never told you about my new plan?” 

“No.” 

Laura launched into an energetic pitch. Carmilla watched Ell as her face shuffled through confusion, to curiosity, to concern. Laura could see that she wasn’t getting the reaction she expected and trailed off. 

“...So, what do you think?” 

Ell bit her lip. “I mean, if you want to try it.” 

“No, Ell, seriously. If you can think of anything I want to know!” 

“There isn’t anything _wrong,_ I just...you know, I’m just thinking about it.” 

“Ell, whatever you are thinking believe me, I want to know.” 

“It’s stupid, I just…” Ell took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. “Okay, so e-commerce is harder than it looks. The profit margins for food aren't great as it is, I mean it's normally around thirty five percent, but online it tends to be about twenty five. On the other hand there's less overhead cost. But the biggest hurdle is customer acquisition, which tends to be pretty high initially for obvious reasons. Then there’s also the problem of, like, how long will it take to be profitable? Even if this is successful, you need a certain number of orders before the price of ingredients will be low enough to make a sizable profit.” 

Laura and Carmilla stared at her. Ell shrunk down in her seat. “Was that stupid?” 

“Ell, since when did you know all of that?” Laura asked. 

“Yeah, Cinnabon, I had no idea you knew all that business crap. That’s...impressive.” 

Ell blushed at Carmilla’s faint praise. “My parents were silent partners in the diner. Besides, Grandpa raised me for two years after they died. Of _course_ I learned some business things. I just...wasn’t very good at it,” Ell squirmed uncomfortably, “I don’t do too well under all that pressure.” 

“That’s amazing, Ell!” Laura exclaimed, “you should help us.” 

“But I just said I didn’t do well--” 

“Come on, Cinnabon,” Carmilla put a hand on Ell’s shoulder. “We’re not Vordenberg. You’d be a great business partner.” 

Ell looked at Carmilla’s hand. “...I guess I could try it.” 

Laura tried not to laugh at Ell’s total one eighty. 

“So we have an expert baker, a business woman, and a...Laura.” 

“PR manager,” Laura stated, “I’m the only one here that knows how to use the internet effectively.” 

“Hell, if the diner closes let’s just start our own business,” Carmilla joked. 

Laura looked at Carmilla thoughtfully. “Well, why not?” 

Carmilla’s eyes widened. “Whoa, I was joking--” 

“It’d be a great idea!” Ell added, “It doesn’t even have to be a diner. It could even just be your own bakery.”

“You could do nothing but make pies all day,” Laura added, “just imagine it. ‘Silas Sweets.’”

“Or Karnstein Confectionaries!” 

Laura grinned at Ell, leaning back in her seat so that they could high five behind Carmilla’s back. She rolled her eyes and got up, tightening her apron. 

“Nice, guys, but I have a few problems with your suggestions,” Carmilla said. 

“Where are you going?” Laura asked. 

“Diner is about to close. I need to go figure out the new special.” 

Laura and Ell looked at each other, then at Carmilla. 

“ _Guys,_ I don’t bake with people.” 

“But you baked with in front of us plenty of times before.” 

“Yeah but--listen, Cupcake, I just don’t feel like it.” 

“Just let us _watch,_ Carm,” Ell suggested. 

Carmilla looked at Ell and Laura’s faces and sighed. “ _Fine._ ” 

They went into the kitchen first. Betty, already out of uniform, looked over her shoulder on her way out the door. 

“You replacing me with Laura now, Carmilla?”

“Ha. Ha. You’re free to stay with us, you know.” 

“Naw, unlike you I would prefer to _sleep._ ” 

“Suit yourself, Betty,” Carmilla answered, “and you wonder why Laura might be grabbing your spot as my number three.” 

Betty gave her a playful shove toward the kitchen and Carmilla walked inside. 

“Alright,” Carmilla cracked her knuckles, “let’s do this. Or, more accurately, watch me do this.” 

Carmilla put a hand to her chin, brow furrowing in thought. Laura and Ell watched silently. 

“...What is she doing?” Laura whispered. 

“Trying to think of a recipe,” Ell said back.

Carmilla looked at Laura. “Quiet, Cupcake; I’m trying to think of something.” 

“Make a pie based off of us!” Laura suggested. Carmilla tilted her head. Laura rocked back and forth on her heels, smiling in a rather adorable fashion, which Carmilla hated noticing. 

“...Actually, I have an idea.” 

_Laura Hollis is Just a Friend Like Ell Pie: Take 3 Musketeer Bars._

Carmilla opened the pantry door and rummaged through it. 

“What are you looking for?” Ell asked. 

“Candy bars--aha,” Carmilla grabbed a plastic bag near the bottom. “Kirsch always keeps a stash for break.” 

_Chop bars into pieces and end up with 1 cup of Musketeer bar. Process until it has the texture of peanut butter._

She unwrapped several 3 Musketeer bars, grabbing a knife. She chopped the bars and then threw them into a food processor. 

“I guess you guys can grab the ingredients for me,” Carmilla said, “I need cream cheese, powdered sugar, brown sugar, and a tub of whipped cream. Oh. And check the pantry for chocolate graham crackers.”

“Butter?” Ell asked, opening the fridge. 

“Yeah, melt it.” 

Laura balanced the ingredients in her arms while Ell melted the butter, dumping them on the table. She jokingly saluted. “Anything else, master chef?” 

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Shut up and grab a pie tin.” 

“So, what’s your problem?” Laura asked, opening the oven. 

Carmilla blinked. “What?” 

“You said before, you had some problems with our ‘suggestions’.” 

“There’s no way I’d name my bakery ‘Silas Sweets.’ The first thing I’d do if I win that contest is get the Hell out of dodge and open a bakery in...Bermuda, maybe.”

Ell abruptly turned her head toward the microwave, hiding her face. Laura frowned, handing Carmilla the pie tin. 

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Ell said, “your baking is going to save the diner. It’s not going to close.” 

“I thought you were skeptical,” Carmilla pointed out. She smirked. “Besides, if we’re selling online I can always bake from my beach house in Bermuda while they write me checks.” 

“Twenty five grand is not going to buy you a beach house, Carmilla,” Laura pointed out. Ell handed Carmilla the bowl of melted butter. 

“Wherever I am, it’ll be better than here,” Carmilla answered, “now let me focus on this recipe.” 

_Combine butter, crumbs, and sugar in a bowl and mix until coarse…_

Carmilla poured the crust into a pie tin and started packing it tightly with her hands.

“Guys? This crust and this filling is going to take an hour to set. It’s already twelve.” 

“Oh, crap,” Laura walked toward the door. “Gran is going to kill me for being out so late. I mean, I’m an adult, but still…” 

“You should both go,” Carmilla answered, “Ell, when you don’t get to sleep before one AM, you are dead the next day. And I dunno Laura you have your grandmother and whatever.” 

“Are you leaving…?” Ell asked, walking toward the door hesitantly. 

“I need to finish. I’ll be fine, guys.” 

Ell stopped in the doorway. Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “The last criminal act that happened here was a guy spray painting the side of a wall. I’ll be _fine._ ” 

Laura looked at Ell and shrugged. “Night, Carm.” 

They both left. Carmilla was left with an hour to herself. She sighed, leaning against the counter before sliding down to the floor. She closed her eyes. 

“...Carmilla?” 

She opened them. “Ell, wh--Cupcake?” 

Laura smiled sheepishly. “I, uh, forgot my bag on the lunch counter.” 

Carmilla saw the bag in Laura’s hand. “...But you didn’t need to come into the kitchen after you grabbed it,” Carmilla pointed out. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

Laura looked at Carmilla. She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a fraction of a moment before asking, “would you mind if I…?” 

“Sit? Don’t you need to be home?” 

“I feel bad leaving you here by yourself. Besides, I called and it went to voicemail. Gran is probably asleep anyway.” 

“Aren’t you going to be tired…?” 

“I stayed up once for thirty six hours straight to study for finals,” Laura said flatly. 

Out of arguments, Carmilla shrugged and scooted a few inches so that they could sit next to each other. Laura slid down. 

They sat silently, Carmilla waiting for Laura to say something else. 

“...What are you thinking about?” 

“What?” 

“You seem...broody. I mean, you always seem broody but--” 

“I do not _brood._ I _contemplate._ With...advanced pessimism.” 

Laura smiled. “Fine. What are you _contemplating,_ then?” 

Carmilla didn’t think Laura would have come in to chat unless there was something she wanted to chat about. She was suspicious, but she would humor her. 

“My mother. She worked here, too.” 

Laura tucked her legs under her. “She did?” 

“Yeah. I used to work with her.” 

Laura nodded. A thought occurred to her; Laura’s brow furrowed and she asked, “how old are you again?” 

“Twenty-two, why?” 

“Betty said you’ve been working here for ten years. Isn’t that totally illegal, then…?” 

Carmilla shrugged. “Like anyone would bother to check? Dad would be at work, Mom would bring me to the diner. I stayed in the kitchen and...well, you can probably guess what we were doing.” 

She smiled a little as she recalled it. Maman playfully throwing a pinch of flour in Carmilla’s face. Carmilla getting to name whatever new recipe was thought up for the special. A kiss on the forehead when she made her first pie all by herself. Watching her soft, careful hands push and knead gently at the pie dough. 

Or, when she was angry at Dad, throwing it viciously onto the table and beating it. Which happened a lot. 

“Where is she now?” Laura asked softly. 

Carmilla was startled out of her trip down memory lane, a little embarrassed.

“Oh. She lives about an hour away. Works as a manager at a Winn-Dixie in Lustig County.” 

She felt a twinge of guilt. This was her mother. Laura was looking at her like she related. Carmilla was acting like her mother was _dead._

Laura nodded. “...My mom wanted to be a doctor too,” she offered, “I’m finishing what she started, I guess.” 

Carmilla shifted a little uncomfortably. So they were apparently sharing now. Wonderful. “Laura, not to be rude--I mean, more than usual--but I get the feeling there was something you wanted to talk about.” 

“Um...kind of?” Laura rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you ever notice how Ell looks when you talk about leaving?” 

Carmilla frowned. “No? Should I?” 

“I don’t know if you noticed, but Ell would be pretty upset if you left.”

Of course Carmilla noticed. Ell didn’t like the thought of Carmilla leaving. Ell didn’t like change, period. She could understand--Ell had gone through some pretty traumatic changes in her life. 

“Ell knows she’s free to come with me,” Carmilla answered nonchalantly. 

“Seriously?” 

“Of course. She’s my best friend. If I won I’d want her to come with me.” She smirked. “Someone has got to help me run that business.” 

Laura smiled at that. “So...you ever consider you and Ell settling down in Bermuda with that bakery, then?” 

Carmilla couldn’t help snorting. “ _Ell?”_

Laura frowned. “...What’s wrong with that? I know you’re probably the type that doesn’t, like, believe in marriage--” 

“That’s not true,” Carmilla interrupted, “I do want to get married.” 

Laura blinked. “Wait, really?” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Is that so unbelievable?” 

“I mean...not in like a _bad_ way but...you just don’t seem like the settling down type, you know?” 

By all accounts, Carmilla probably shouldn’t have been. She fit all the criteria; strained relationship with her father, divorced parents, growing up falling asleep fitfully to the sound of Mom and Dad arguing. She could have been the poster child for Fear of Commitment. 

But somehow it had the opposite effect. 

Maybe because she refused to end up being a bitter, depressed manager of a Winn-Dixie in Lustig County. 

The best revenge _was_ living well. Living better. Getting it right where her parents got it wrong. 

“Well, you’re wrong,” Carmilla answered, “I _would_ want to get married. Which is another reason why I’d like to leave Silas in favor of somewhere with more dating options.” 

“So the problem is Ell then?” 

Carmilla hunched her shoulders, growing increasingly uncomfortable. The girl she was unfortunately currently infatuated with was trying to set her up with someone else. If that wasn’t a clear ‘not interested’ Carmilla didn’t know what was. 

Not that she _wanted_ Laura to be interested, because it was a _bad idea._

“There’s no _problem_ with Ell, she’s just…” 

Ell was sweet, she was beautiful, she was Carmilla’s best friend. 

She was obvious, she was logical, she was practical, she was...more of the same.

“...she’s _Ell._ It’d be like dating my freaking sister.” 

Laura fidgeted with her hands. “Oh.” 

Carmilla smiled, trying to lighten the conversation when she asked, “why? Thinking of making a move?” 

“God, _no._ We’re friends but like...” Laura smiled at Carmilla sheepishly, “I guess I understand where you’re coming from.”

“You know she’s normally pretty shy,” Carmilla said, “I bet she likes you.” 

Laura giggled. 

“You just got mad at me for laughing!” 

“No, no, it’s just...nothing. So…” Laura bit her lip, “what _is_ your type then?” 

Carmilla’s paused. “...I guess…” Laura inched closer; Carmilla realized she was almost whispering. She tried her damndest to avoid looking right at her. “She has to be _really_ hot.” 

Laura huffed. “Be serious! For a second I actually thought you were going to open up. Like a _person._ ” 

“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with that. In a few months you’ll be back home with your _real_ city friends anyway.” 

Laura’s eyes widened, and she looked at Carmilla thoughtfully. “Do you...really think that?” 

Carmilla rubbed her hands. “Think what?” 

“That when I go back home it’ll be like I never met you.” 

“What; it won’t?” 

Laura looked genuinely hurt by Carmilla’s comment. “Of _course_ not,” she said fiercely, “I care about you guys. You’ve all been really nice to me.” 

“Except for me,” Carmilla pointed out, looking at her. 

“You can be nice in your own way,” Laura answered, smiling. 

“Really?” 

“Like letting me sit with you and keep you company while your pie is setting?” 

“I guess.” Their shoulders were brushing. Carmilla reached a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hey, Laura?” 

“Yes?” 

She leaned closer. “You asked me about my type.” 

“...Yes,” Laura breathed. 

“What if I told you I always wanted to date someone from the city?” 

Laura’s mouth opened slightly, and she swallowed. “Um, depends which city.” 

She wasn’t pulling away. Carmilla took it as a good sign. 

“I don’t like things the way they are,” Carmilla continued, “I want change. And I want someone who won’t keep me here.” 

Laura was gazing at Carmilla with an expression she couldn’t quite place. And Carmilla decided, screw good ideas or bad ideas. She wanted change. This was definitely a change. She closed her eyes and started to lean in. 

“...I should probably go,” Laura said abruptly, standing up so quickly that Carmilla fell over and had to sit back up. 

“What?” 

“My--Gran and everything,” Laura continued, backing up toward the door, “I really should probably go home.” 

Carmilla’s stomach dropped. “Right,” she mumbled, “right.” She realized Laura left her bag. She tossed it to her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Sure.” 

Laura backed up until she hit the door. She gripped the doorknob. 

“...I’m sorry,” Laura said, before she opened the door and was gone. Carmilla got to her feet, grabbing her mixture from the refrigerator and tasting it. 

It was good. But she couldn’t help but feel like it needed some bittersweet chocolate. 


	14. It's a Bad Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to me! Yep, for my birthday, I write fanfic.

So, Carmilla was totally ignoring her. 

Laura was hoping that she would pretend that the previous night had never happened. Laura certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. But when Laura walked into the diner for breakfast, and waved at Carmilla from her spot at the counter, she was ignored. 

“Morning, Laura,” Betty said, wiping her hands on her apron and walking behind the counter, “what can I get you?” 

“Carmilla,” Laura mumbled. 

Betty snorted. 

“NO WAIT THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT.” 

“Fine. What do you mean by ‘Carmilla?’” 

“I mean...usually she’s here taking my order. Or bringing me a cupcake.” 

Betty shook her head. “Mm-hm. So what I’m hearing is you will only get your order taken by her so I can continue doing nothing?” 

“I didn’t say that. Get me something with lots of sugar and butter. I don’t care what it is.” 

Betty raised an eyebrow. “Coming right up.” 

She walked away. Laura rested her chin in her hand, watching Carmilla waiting tables. Should she say something? ‘Sorry I left abruptly when you tried to kiss me, it totally wasn’t because I didn’t want to though?’ 

But Ell was so uptight--there was _no way_ she wouldn’t be mad at Laura if she told Carmilla _why._

Besides, Ell would just end up heartbroken, considering that Carmilla made it...pretty clear it was not Ell she was interested in. 

And Laura wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

(Okay, a lie; she was pretty onboard, if not for the geographical and ethical barriers of kissing your new friend’s crush who you will be several states away in a few months anyway.) 

“Why does life have to be so complicated,” Laura mumbled, “ _why?”_

“Hey, Hollis,” Betty said, “here.” 

She dropped a plate in front of Laura. 

“What the Hufflepuff is _that?”_

“Ribs,” Betty said dryly. 

“That is not what I asked for!” 

“It has butter and sugar in the glaze,” Betty answered, “girl, you need to eat some other food groups.” 

“I don’t need other food groups, I need to drown my sorrow in pie,” Laura moaned. 

“Well you lost your pie privileges when you made Carmilla all pissy toward you for whatever reason, okay? I am genuinely concerned for your health here--” 

“Hey, Betty, can I get some of that pie Carmilla made last night?” 

Ell hopped onto the stool next to Laura, and Betty shrugged, turning back and taking a slice from the display case. Ell grabbed an extra fork and handed one toward Laura. 

“No one should be denied pie,” Ell said simply. 

Laura was hit simultaneously with guilt and gratitude. Betty rolled her eyes and mumbled something about Laura needing some protein before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

“You want some of my ribs that I apparently ordered?” Laura asked. 

“Naw, I don’t want to risk getting barbecue sauce all over my uniform.” 

Laura took a bite of Carmilla’s pie and had to hold back a moan. _Why_ did her pies have to be so good? Did her lips taste like pie too because she had to test her recipes, or something--Laura shook her head. 

“You okay?” Ell asked. 

“Uh--yeah. Fine,” Laura smiled at Ell, “just...tired. You’re in a good mood.” 

Ell rested her chin in her hand. “I have good days and bad days,” Ell said, “I was feeling pretty good today so I thought I’d take advantage of it. Actually, I think partially it’s because of you.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s just feels _so good_ to talk to someone about Carmilla and not keep it all inside and everything, you know?” 

Laura’s smile twitched. “Um, yeah.” 

“And I don’t know, you have this idea to try and save the diner, and Carmilla is doing the contest--which I know I said I was kind of sad about, but she is still my _best friend_ \--so yeah, I guess I’m just happy!” 

Ell turned in her seat, shouting after Carmilla (who was walking past them with a coffee pot), “Carm! Take your break with me.” 

“Um, she looks busy Ell--” 

“Carmilla is way too lazy to say no,” Ell answered, “especially when pie is involved.” 

She was ignoring them, filling a patron’s cup before turning around and looking at Ell. “Huh?” 

“You made an awesome pie and you should eat it with us,” Ell answered. 

Carmilla looked like she was about to join them when she stopped, raising an eyebrow at Laura. 

“...Actually,” Carmilla said, “I think I’m going to take a smoke break.” 

Ell frowned. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Carmilla said, her gaze lingering on Laura, “I’m going outside.” 

She untied her apron, throwing it at Ell before walking out. Ell lifted it from her face. 

“Wow, what’s with her,” Ell said, “Carmilla almost _never_ smokes.” 

“She doesn’t?” 

“Not unless she’s like, stressed out or something.” 

“...Maybe it’s the contest making her nervous,” Laura suggested weakly, “like, trying to think of a new recipe or something.” 

“If I didn’t have work to go back to I’d go talk to her,” Ell said, pushing her plate back, “hey Laura, I know you guys aren’t _best friends,_ but if you figure out what’s wrong could you tell me? I mean, I love Carmilla but she can be kind of moody. If it’s something easy to fix…” 

“Right,” Laura answered. She shoveled the remaining pie in her mouth as Ell got up and returned to her register.

Ell was right though; this _was_ Laura’s fault, and she _should_ be the one to talk to Carmilla. She got up slowly, peeking her head out the door, where Carmilla was leaning with one foot against the outer wall of the building. Smoke was curling into the air and Laura wrinkled her nose at the smell. 

“Um, Carmilla, hey.” 

“Hey,” Carmilla answered, not looking at her. She seemed focused on the smoke. Laura closed the door behind her, watching Carmilla while her hands inched to rest in the pockets of her denim jacket. 

“Ell says you’re not normally much of a smoke--” 

“I don’t smoke around _her,_ ” Carmilla answered, “she hates it.” 

“She said you don’t normally smoke unless you’re stressed. You know, not happy.” 

“Well,” Carmilla drawled, “I wonder why I’m not happy.” 

Laura frowned. “Carmilla look, I’m sorry about last night but that’s no reason to be all pouty about it--” 

“Oh, so something happened last night?” Carmilla took a drag of her cigarette, “I didn’t realize.” 

“You _know_ what I’m referring to,” Laura answered, “can you please not be so difficult?” 

Carmilla finally looked at Laura. “You know what’s difficult? A girl rejecting you by practically _tripping_ on the way out the door because she wants to get away from you so badly.” 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings! I even _wanted_ to--” Laura put her hands over her mouth. Carmilla’s brow furrowed. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“No,” Carmilla dropped her cigarette, crushing it under a boot. She looked at Laura. “What did you want, Laura?” Carmilla asked. 

Laura shook her head. “Carmilla, I can’t--” 

She walked toward her. “Laura, what _do_ you want?” She asked again, softly. Laura swallowed. 

“Carmilla I--it wouldn’t be fair.” 

“Who the Hell cares about fair?” 

“ _I_ do,” Laura answered firmly, “ _I_ care and if I kissed you, I’d be doing it when I _know_ I’ll be going back to school soon, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.” 

Carmilla massaged a hand through her hair, which was _also_ unfair because it was actually really, _really_ attractive, and Laura tried her hardest not to let it show. 

“You don’t think I knew that when I tried?” Carmilla asked, “you know what else isn’t fair? That my parents are divorced. That I couldn’t go to college. That I’m stuck in this town working a shitty waitress job and my biggest excitement is baking fucking pie. _Everything_ about my life is unfair. Until I met you.” 

Laura sucked in a breath. She took one step backwards, and Carmilla was giving her a look that Laura could only describe as smoldering. Which was awful. If she was trying to make Carmilla think there was no mutual interest, Laura was failing pretty miserably. 

“You may consider this unfair, but to me this is the closest thing to being rewarded in life that I’ve ever gotten,” Carmilla continued, “after twenty two years of my life sucking, suddenly you waltz in with your stupid New York accent and you don’t make me feel like I should feel _guilty_ or like a _freak_ for wanting to leave here. Okay?” 

Laura sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Carmilla,” Laura said slowly, “listen to me. We are...comrades. With no lustful undertones or kissing. Just platonic buddies. And I do not want to jeopardize my sanity and yours by being anything more than that.” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, and bit her lip. For a beat they stared at each other. 

Laura couldn’t even register what her brain was telling her body to do before she threw herself forward, grabbing Carmilla and crashing their faces together. 

“What--what about what you just--” 

“Even _I_ could tell how unconvincing I sounded,” Laura breathed, “just...just kiss me again before I remember how bad an idea this is.” 

Carmilla, who was definitely way less inclined to care if a decision was bad anyway, was more than happy to agree. 

It was probably the worst possible time to kiss Carmilla, because she had literally just finished a cigarette, and it was still the morning, _and_ Carmilla had also had coffee, so it wasn’t really the best combination for a pleasant kissing experience. But underneath the layers of bitter coffee brew and cigarette smoke Laura felt something else, maybe the sugar when Carmilla tasted one of her recipes, or maybe her brain was just tricking her senses because _oh God she had wanted to kiss Carmilla way longer than she realized._

Whatever the reason, Laura didn’t want to stop. Like really, _really_ didn’t want to _ever_ stop. So she grabbed the back of Carmilla’s head, deepening the kiss before maneuvering Carmilla around and pushing her against the outside of the diner with a dull _thump._

“Sorry!” Laura squeaked, “you okay?” 

“Mm-hm,” Carmilla mumbled, grabbing Laura by her jacket and pulling her in again. Laura kept kissing her until she realized--they were outside. Near a window. 

“Oooookay!” Laura pushed away from Carmilla, “maybe this is not the best place to make out and avoid talking about our feelings.” 

Carmilla was smiling when she answered, “I’ll make out with you wherever you want Sweetheart. What’d you have in mind?” 

“Um--well--uh--I have no idea.” 

Carmilla smirked. “How about this,” she grabbed her notepad from her apron, taking her pen from behind her ear. “This is my address,” she tore the paper off and held it out, “my shift ends at eight, why don’t you stop by around then? We can...talk.” 

“Right. Talk,” Laura said dumbly, grabbing the paper from Carmilla, “I need to go home and think about life.” 

“I need to go celebrate,” Carmilla answered, winking at Laura. 

“Stop looking so smug!” 

She shrugged, totally ignoring Laura as she waltzed back into the diner. 

Laura had just done something bad, _really_ bad. She was a terrible friend. A horrible, terrible, backstabbing friend. Plus, her clothes were all covered in flour now. 

So...why didn’t she feel more guilty? 

***

Carmilla was practically bouncing when she walked back inside, unable to stop the smile on her face or the fidgeting of her hands. She felt fantastic. Unstoppable. She was Carmilla Karnstein, the Woman Who Just Seduced Laura Hollis. 

Ell was busy dealing with a customer, so Carmilla distracted herself by scribbling in her notepad. When Ell had finally sorted it out--and sighed with relief at having gotten through--Carmilla walked up to her, resting her elbows on the register counter. 

“...Hey Carm,” Ell said, “you seem better than you did ten minutes ago.” 

“Well, you know, my morning has been pretty good,” Carmilla turned around, resting one elbow on the counter and using the other hand to give Ell her notepad. “Came up with a new recipe.” 

“Oh, awesome! Let’s see,” Ell squinted to read Carmilla’s cursive handwriting. “New York cheesecake, passion fruit cream, graham cracker crust...this sounds really good,” Ell smiled at Carmilla, “what are you calling it?” 

“I was thinking,” Carmilla turned her head to grin at her, “‘I Just Kissed Laura Hollis Pie.’” 

Ell blinked. And blinked again. She finally said, in a small voice, “ _what?”_

 _“_ We just kissed outside,” Carmilla said, smiling to herself as she remembered what had happened mere minutes ago, “God, Ell, I don’t even know how it happened. One second she was telling me she wants to be friends and the next--” Carmilla clapped her hands together. “She just couldn’t resist the Carmilla Karnstein charm, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Ell said weakly, “I guess.” 

Carmilla frowned. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Oh--um. I--yeah. It’s just you and _Laura._ Kind of weird.” 

“You mean awesome,” Carmilla answered, and she was sure she looked like an idiot, grinning and smiling so much--but who gave a shit? “She was so freaking _amazing_ Ell I just-- _fuck,_ I don’t even know what else to say.” She sighed. “I needed to tell _someone._ ” 

Ell didn’t answer at first. When she found the words, Ell managed to smile and said, “Carmilla, I am so, so happy for you.” 

“Thanks Cinnabon,” Carmilla said. She reached over to give Ell an awkward sort of hug, “you’re the one that forced me to hang out with her, so I guess I should be thanking you too.” 

“Right. You’re welcome.” 

“Gotta go. Work calls. Plus,” she snatched the paper back, “I got to see about this new recipe.” 

She turned, walking away, and didn’t notice how Ell ducked her head to hide the fact that she stopped smiling. 

***

Laura hated that she couldn't even decide on what to wear. She was standing in front of the mirror, straightening her collar, trying to choose whether or not to button her top button. She settled on leaving it undone. 

She had a plan. There was a slight wrench thrown in it when Gran had a stroke, but otherwise everything was on schedule. Finish school (with honors of course), do her residency, live in New York City, be married by thirty at the latest, adopt two children, and become the most respected doctor in her field. Easy. 

The plan did not involve Carmilla. That complicated things. Laura liked excitement. She liked the feeling of accomplishing something difficult. But she also liked for there to be an obvious solution. There was no obvious solution to 'I've developed feelings for a woman that lives exactly sixteen hours and fifty two minutes away.’

(She'd checked.) 

Getting involved with Carmilla would only end badly. Or at least, almost definitely end badly. Laura took calculated risks. Ninety nine percent chance of failure wasn't calculated, it was absolute stupidity. 

But of course none of that mattered because wow kissing Carmilla was about as nice as one would expect.

"Gran, I'm going out for a walk!" Laura called out, opening the front door and walking out before she heard an answer. Carmilla's house was only a few blocks away from Laura--in fact, she recognized it as soon as she saw it. 

Carmilla was watching from the top of her driveway, regarding Laura with a quick upturn of the head. 

"Cup--" 

"You own a motorcyle," Laura said, walking up to her. Carmilla looked confused for a moment before looking at the motorcycle sitting in her driveway. 

"Uh, yeah. I do. Did you want to talk--" 

"I've walked by this house before and I never realized you were the one that owns that motorcycle. Why do you walk everywhere?" 

"It's not worth the gas money when everything is so close--okay, did you want to talk about this morning or not?" 

"But you own a motorcycle, that is _so cool!_ " She didn't mean to completely divert the conversation--at least not consciously--but she couldn't help it. Laura walked over, putting a hand on the seat. "Sportsters are great bikes. It's a 2000 Sportster, right?"

Carmilla stared at Laura as she admired the bike. "...How the fuck do you know so much about motorcycles?" 

"My dad loves motorcycles," Laura explained, still running her hands across the bike, "when I was little he would drive with me to Harley Davidson to look at all the bikes." 

"Did he have one?" 

"No. He got rid of his after my mom died. He said it was too dangerous to ride a motorcycle when he had me to take care of." 

Carmilla walked around so she was looking at Laura from the other side of the bike. "So...would it be too forward of me to say that you are being extremely hot right now?" 

Laura considered it. "I don't _not_ like it, but it still feels really weird that it's you saying it to me." 

"It feels really weird to say it," Carmilla answered. 

"Have you been thinking it for awhile?" 

"For a...a bit, yeah." 

A grin spread across Laura's face and Carmilla frowned slightly. "Do you have to rub it in my face, Cupcake?" 

"A little bit." 

"I think I should be more smug about it than you." 

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" 

Carmilla laughed. Her laughter trailed off and they both looked at each other. 

"I have my life planned," Laura blurted out, "I've had my life planned out since I was a kid. My dad bought me a doctor's kit when I was five and I wouldn't take off the costume that came with it for three weeks." 

"Laura, I get it," Carmilla answered, "you're not planning on staying here and I'd make things more complicated than they have to be." She crossed her arms and Laura could see that she was trying to look unaffected. "If this is your long winded way of saying you want to pretend this morning didn't happen and stay friends, fine--" 

She reached across and grabbed Carmilla's wrist. "I'm not saying that." 

Carmilla looked at her hand. "Then what the Hell are you saying?" She asked softly. 

“I’m saying--I’m saying--” Laura shook her head. “I’m saying I don’t _want_ to say no, but I also don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be--to be this tornado that sweeps into your life and then a few months later I’m gone and I’ve left a bunch of people heartbroken.” 

“A _bunch?”_ Carmilla put a hand on her heart in mock indignation. “Who _else_ , heartbreaker?” 

A very sweet, kind, shy cashier who obviously cared about Carmilla and was in a much better position to do that than Laura was. But Laura had promised not to tell Carmilla, and considering all of the betrayal and backstabbing she’d already done...well, she promised Ell that she wouldn’t say anything. She was going to keep her word on that, at least. 

“...You know what I meant,” Laura mumbled.

Carmilla smiled. “Laura, a few months from now you are going to be gone.” 

“That’s my _point.”_

“That’s _why_ I want to do this. Yes, it is tragic that we would only have a short time together. Yes, I understand your point and I have gone over it over and over again in my head, too. But every time I come to the same conclusion.” 

She stopped, obviously waiting for Laura to ask. And _God,_ why was it that every time Laura was determined to do the right thing Carmilla made it so hard? 

“...What?” 

Carmilla took Laura’s hand, entwining their fingers. “It would be _infinitely_ more tragic to have never gotten to know what it was like to be with you at all.” 

Laura couldn’t help herself. She leaned over the bike, capturing Carmilla’s lips in a soft kiss that was enthusiastically returned.

“I guess we could...keep it casual?”

“Light.”

“Light. Very light...oh god everyone is going to think this is hilarious.”

Carmilla hummed softly. “I would imagine Ell told everyone already.”

“ _Ell_ saw us?”

“Uh, no. I told her. I was kind of excited.”

Laura could feel herself breaking into a cold sweat.

“How did she, um, take it?”

“Kind of shocked.”

Laura swallowed. Ell was going to be so mad--

“Hey.” Carmilla continued, “why don’t we sit together on the porch and talk?”

Laura agreed. Carmilla casually pulled Laura to the porch step, pulling her down to rest Laura’s head on her shoulder. And Laura liked it. A lot.

Ell would never forgive her. 

But maybe Laura could worry about it tomorrow.


	15. Bakeman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Carmilla Movie announcement, everyone! :D

Gran was, unsurprisingly, thrilled with Laura when she decided to rip off the bandaid and tell her about Carmilla.

“I always thought you two would get along if you got to know her, dear! And wasn’t I right?” 

Laura groaned, grabbing a dish from the dishwasher and standing on tiptoe to place it in the cabinet. “Gran, I know you love Carmilla and everything, but please stop looking at me like you’re wondering what we’ll name our future children.” 

“Well excuse me for being excited that there might be a possibility of grandchildren now,” she answered from the kitchen table. Laura avoided looking at her. 

“This is not that big of a deal. We both know that this is over when I go back to the city. There is nothing serious about this relationship. It is purely...recreational.” 

Gran looked at Laura pointedly and she sighed. 

“I am an adult, if I want to have a summer romance with a diner waitress I have the right to do that.” 

“So it’s ‘purely recreational’, but you still call it a ‘romance.’” 

“Gran!” Laura shut the cabinet a little too hard. “...Sorry.” 

“You’re overreacting, honey. I’m just teasing a little. You’ve never had a girlfriend I could tease you about before.” 

The word girlfriend still felt like a wrong word. Saying she was ‘dating’ Carmilla felt like the wrong word. It was a big leap from tentatively calling Carmilla a friend. All she knew at the moment was that she kissed Carmilla and enjoyed it. Then she sat with Carmilla on her porch and they bantered for a half hour before she needed to go home. She was hardly going to call them soulmates at this point. Even if it was kind of nice…

“I’m going to the diner,” Laura said, “I’ll bring you back some pie, Gran.” 

Laura grabbed her binder of notes before she left. She still needed to talk to Perry about the diner. It was raining, but somehow that didn't help the blistering heat and Laura, stupidly, hadn't bothered to look for an umbrella. When she got to the diner she was both wet from the rain and sticky from sweat.

“ _Ugh,_ this weather is awful,” Laura moaned, stumbling in with her stuff. She saw Ell, pointedly looking down at her register. 

“Um, morning Ell.”

“Hey,” she answered, not looking up. 

“Have you talked to--”

“Please don’t talk to me.”

Laura winced. At least even when she was mad Ell remembered to say please. 

“Right. I’m sorry. Fine. I'm at the counter if you change your mind."

She sat at the counter.

"Laura?" 

She looked up. Carmilla was standing in front of her, smiling. 

"Carm. Hey. Going to call me Laura, now?" 

She shrugged. "Don’t get too excited--you're still Cupcake most of the time. Speaking of which..." 

Carmilla reached under the counter and pulled out a cupcake. Laura put her hand over her mouth. 

"That is _gorgeous_." 

The icing was piped to look like the petals of a sunflower, and an oreo cookie was used as the middle. Laura held it in her hand, turning it around a few times as she admired it. "What made you want to make a sunflower cupcake, of all things though?" 

Carmilla turned a shade redder before admitting, "I, uh, wanted something that kind of fit you." 

"And a sunflower reminds you of me...?" 

"Bright, I guess. It's just where my mind went." 

Laura looked at her incredulously. "You know, you are a _lot_ different when you're dating someone." 

"So you want to call this dating?" 

“We don't have a ton of time and I'd rather not spend it worrying over labels. Plus, come on," Laura held up the cupcake, “this is really, really cute. You sure know the way to a woman’s heart, Carmilla Karnstein.” 

A smile spread across Carmilla’s face. She untied her apron. 

“Betty, I’m taking my break,” Carmilla called out. Laura turned around and saw her walking with a coffee pot in her hand. 

“But the day juststarted.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“I am not cover--” She noticed Laura. “ _Oh._ You want to make bedroom eyes at Laura for half an hour to start your morning, be my guest.” 

"'Bedroom eyes?' She does not make--" 

"Thanks Betty," Carmilla interrupted, hopping over the counter. She took the seat next to Laura. “And can you grab me a slice of apple pie…?” 

Betty rolled her eyes. “Jesus. Fine, but your girlfriend better tip well.” She grabbed the pie and threw the plate and the fork on the countertop in front of Carmilla. 

"So...hey." 

"Hey." 

They smiled at each other, unsure of what to say, before Laura asked, "hey! I just had a great idea." She lifted her phone. "Take a picture with me." 

"Are you seriously asking me to take a selfie?" 

"Please...?" Laura took a chance and batted her eyes. Carmilla responded with a drawn out sigh, but nonetheless leaned her head in as Laura held out her phone. Laura took a bite of her cupcake as she snapped the photo. 

"This looks great," Laura said, showing it to Carmilla. She nodded at it, not particularly interested.

"Great.” 

Carmilla slung an arm around Laura's shoulders, grabbing the fork and taking a bite of her pie. She rolled the bite around in her mouth, which Laura couldn’t help but watch. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“You look like you’re doing a wine tasting.” 

Carmilla swallowed. “I tried a new recipe. Added cayenne pepper to it.” 

“Cayenne pepper?” 

“Try it.” Laura opened her mouth. Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Cupcake, do you seriously want me to feed you?” 

Laura considered it and shook her head. “I have a better idea.” 

“Lay it on me.” 

She leaned in and gave Carmilla a quick kiss. When she pulled back, she licked her lips. 

“...Not as much pie flavor as I thought there’d be,” Laura admitted, “but I did taste the cayenne pepper.”

Laura couldn’t believe that the Carmilla’s she’d met at the beginning of the summer was the same one blushing and tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear now. “Good. I’ll, uh, mark down to maybe add a little less.” 

She grabbed her notepad from the pock. Laura snuck a peek as she wrote it down, resting her chin on Carmilla’s shoulder. 

“Laura, Carmilla?” 

Laura looked up. “Perry, hey--wow, are you okay? You look really, um...pale. And not like Carmilla pale. Unnaturally pale.” 

She looked to her for confirmation and Carmilla nodded. “No offense, but you look like shit.” 

“I’m fine,” Perry answered, “just a little tired. That’s it. Um...what are you both…?”

She gestured at them. 

“You didn’t hear? Carmilla and I--well, this might be a bit surprising but we’re kind of--” 

“We hooked up.” 

“Carmilla!” 

“What? Did we not hook up yesterday?”

“Okay, _what_ is your definition of a ‘hook up’, because mine is a little diff--” 

Perry frowned. “Of _course_ LaFontaine told me--and by the way, if you thought this was surprising, you’re not very aware--I was wondering what you were both doing because _she_ should be working.”

“I took my break, Betty has got me covered.” 

“Good,” Perry held her head, “the last thing I need is my employees not giving good service to the customers we have.” 

“Perry, you feel awful because of stress,” Laura said, “seriously, don’t you think you should go home and rest?” 

“I can’t just not show up whenever I feel less that one hundred percent, Laura. I have advil, I’ll be fine.” 

“Well, what if I told you I can help?” 

Perry looked at Carmilla. 

“Hear her out, Perry, she has a binder and everything,” Carmilla answered dryly. 

“Just let me talk to you for five minutes, Perry,” Laura continued, “you won’t be disappointed, I promise!” 

Perry rubbed her temples, closing her eyes for a moment. “...If you promise not to be so loud. I have a headache.” 

“Deal!” Laura exclaimed, then said more softly, “I mean, _deal._ ” 

***

They ended up in Perry’s office, with Laura rambling on about the pros of online business while Carmilla watched with a strange mix of amusement and pride. Perry was flipping through the binder, lips pursed. 

“...So I just think it wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Laura finished. Perry didn’t say anything. She closed the binder, sliding it across the desk back toward Laura. 

“I just don’t know, honey,” Perry said, “I don’t know the first thing about making a website, selling food online...there must be standards...and if the point is to bring in new customers, how will we get new people to look at the website?” 

“You just need to get the word out! I use tons of social media, it’d be a great place to the start. I can advertise to all of my New York friends. They’re always looking for the next cool food thing to try. After that,” Laura looked back and smiled at Carmilla, “the taste will handle the rest, right?” 

“Carmilla?” 

She shrugged. “I won’t be doing anything new. You want me to bake, I’ll bake.” 

“See?” Laura clapped her hands, “Carmilla is on board!” 

“She’s dating you now, that does not count.” 

“Perry, I promise you, my relationship with Laura will not hamper my ability to call her plans idiotic.” 

Laura smiled at Perry smugly. “Please, Perry?” 

Perry sighed. “You are lucky that I am desperate and my head hurts. Fine. I’ll call a staff meeting for after closing tonight. And Carmilla, you have five minutes before I want to see that apron back on you. I don’t want to see you getting distracted, okay?” 

“Absolutely, boss lady.” 

“Thank you Perry!” 

As soon as they left Perry’s office, Laura huffed, “you could have been a little more enthusiastic.” 

Carmilla turned to face Laura and grabbed her upper arms gently. “Would you forgive me if I told you I was thinking of trying a recipe for chocolate chip cookie pie?” 

Laura swallowed. “That would definitely make it easier for me.” 

“For the record, are you turned on by me or my desserts?” 

“Eh, little of both?” 

Carmilla laughed, letting go. “I have to work. See you, Cupcake.” 

“Wait!” 

She turned around. 

Laura rocked back and forth on her heels briefly before asking, “so, um, what are the chances that I can see you again outside of here…? And away from my grandmother.” 

“I hope you don’t think I would consider this a hot spot for a date--” 

“Karnstein, get your apron on _now!”_

“Fuck, Betty, I’m coming!” Carmilla shouted back. She looked back at Laura. “We’ll talk later,” Carmilla promised. She went back behind the counter, putting her apron on.

“That table over there has a screaming kid,” Betty said as she walked past Carmilla, “good luck with that.” 

Carmilla cursed under her breath and, after assuring the child at the table that he _could_ have chicken fingers (Carmilla assumed Danny could figure it out), she placed the order with the kitchen.

“Man, I hate tables with young kids,” Carmilla groaned, leaning a hand on Ell's counter, "sometimes I think we should switch jobs, Cinnabon, at least all you need to do is say 'hi, there's your table.'" 

Ell was counting money in the register. "Mm-hm," Ell responded, licking one finger to unstick the bills as she organized them in the drawer. Carmilla's brow furrowed. 

“So, Laura finally got to pitch her idea to Perry,” Carmilla continued, “she’s going to have a staff meeting after work to talk about it.” 

"Thanks." 

Ell was quiet, Carmilla knew that--at the same time, she wasn't this quiet, least of all around her. "Anything to add, Sugar? I'm bored. Entertain me." 

She didn't respond at first, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and purposefully looking down at the register. Carmilla waited. 

"...So, you and Laura, huh?" 

Carmilla couldn't help smiling for a moment before stopping herself. "Yeah, we talked last night. It’s official.” 

"What's it like?" 

"I don't know. Awkward." 

"If it's bad--" 

"No, it's not bad," Carmilla corrected immediately, "just...fuck, I have no idea how to date. What am I supposed to do now? But seriously Ell, she is a great kiss--" 

Ell chanced looking at her. "Honestly, I don't think this is a good idea." 

Carmilla stopped. "...Not a good idea?" 

"I just--I don't want you to get hurt." 

"Hurt? Oh, Cinnabon," Carmilla laughed. "I'm touched by your concern, but we both already know what we're getting into." 

"I'm just saying, you can do better than some northern girl."

"Were you not the one that said I shouldn't be judging her because of where she's from...?" 

(Besides, the accent was more endearing than annoying to Carmilla, now.)

Ell shook her head quickly, looking down at the register. "Do what you want then, Carmilla." 

"Fine," Carmilla answered, "I'll talk to you when you're in a better mood." 

Ell looked up from the register again, gaze softening; she looked like she was about to say something until she decided against it, looking back down at the register again and picking up the pace as she counted change. 

***

“So, that was Laura’s idea,” Perry finished, “any questions?”

Laura smiled at everyone, looking around the room. No one seemed sure of how to react. Carmilla was standing next to Laura with a hand on her shoulder. 

"...How do you even sell food online?" Betty asked. 

"Do you guys just, like, not use the internet?" Laura asked with a frustrated groan. 

"Of course we use the internet," Elsie said, "we're just not getting why people we don't know would suddenly be showing up on this website to buy our food." 

"Guys, not to brag," Laura said, "but I'm kind of awesome at using social media. Seriously! I have tons of followers, I have a youtube channel, I have a twitter--we just need to use that stuff." 

"No one is going to mention the obvious problem?" Betty asked, "how are we going to do this and run the actual, you know, diner?" 

"I don't know," Perry admitted, "but if there's any chance of this helping business, I can't really say no..." 

"I think it's a good idea," Danny said, "if we can manage filling orders online and running the restaurant at the same time." 

Kirsch had no other response besides, "I'm not a business bro, so I don't know. It sounds cool." 

LaFontaine looked at Ell. "You've been pretty quiet." 

“Um...I’m always quiet,” Ell answered. 

“Guys,” Laura said, “Ell is a genius. Like, she’s actually _really_ good at business stuff. Me, Carmilla, and Ell can do this. You just have to _trust_ us.” 

“Ell is secretly a business genius?” LaFontaine said, “where have you been hiding it, Ell?” 

“Wow, I am,” Ell said dryly, “you should tell my grandpa that. _He_ certainly didn’t think so.” 

“Yeah, because you’re not heartless,” Danny pointed out. 

Ell looked at Danny for a fraction of a second before looking away. “Anyway, Laura, I hardly _feel_ like a genius.” She looked at her, “in fact, I think I’ve made some pretty _dumb_ decisions.” 

Laura winced and looked away from Ell. 

"Why didn't I know that you knew so much?" Perry asked. 

"Well, you never brought it up," Ell answered, shrugging.

"I'm bringing it up now, and you're going to be in charge of this." 

Ell's eyes widened. "What? _Me?"_

"Absolutely. I have no idea what I'm doing and you apparently do," Perry answered, "Laura, you can work on marketing since I don't even own a Facebook. Carmilla, you keep baking." 

"Right on," Carmilla answered dryly. 

"And Ell, you handle--I don't know, everything else I suppose." 

"'Everything else?' Just because I know what the profit margin should be does not mean I know how to run an online bakery, Perry!" 

"Is there any particular reason you are so against helping?" Perry asked pointedly. Ell closed her mouth. 

"That--that is not fair-- _fine,_ I'll do it." 

She traced her finger across the top of the table. 

"If we're going to get started on this," Carmilla said, "I should probably go get started on some recipes."

She cracked her knuckles. Laura looked at her. "Wait, wait, are you making chocolate chip cookie pie?" 

"Of course I am...want to come with?" 

"Come with?" Laura looked back at the others before shaking her head. "Sure, I'd love to." 

"Great," Carmilla put an arm around Laura, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Ladies, gentleman, LaFontaine, Laura and I will be back."

 

"Wait, they're _dating?"_

"You didn't know that, Danny?" LaFontaine asked, "they were literally making out in the middle of the parking lot yesterday." 

"Kirsch, Elsie and I were in the kitchen! Of course we didn't see--" 

“Let’s let the others fill them in,” Carmilla whispered, leading Laura into the kitchen. 

She could still hear the group talking about them. Laura tuned it out and closed the door to the kitchen, standing off to the side as Carmilla moved purposefully around the kitchen grabbing supplies. 

“Should I be helping?” Laura asked. 

“Helping? Sorry, Sweetheart, but I bake alone.” 

“‘Bake alone?’ Are you Batman now?” 

“No,” Carmilla looked back at Laura with a crooked grin, “I’m _Bake_ man.” 

“Oh my God, that was horrible,” Laura said, as Carmilla started laughing. 

“Okay, okay, it was,” Carmilla answered, “besides, if I was a superhero I’d be Catwoman anyway.” 

She grabbed a bag of flour, dipping her hand in and throwing it across the table. 

“Why do you do that?” 

“Keeps the dough from sticking,” Carmilla answered, opening the fridge and grabbing two plastic bags filled with pie dough. 

“Wait, you use premade dough?” 

Carmilla looked at Laura, obviously offended. “Are you accusing _me_ of cutting corners?” 

Laura raised her hands. “No, wait, I didn’t--” 

“I am _surprised_ at you. Dough needs to rest for _at least_ an hour in the fridge before you use it and for you to insinuate I wouldn’t bake my pies from scratch is hurtful.” 

“No, Carm, I really didn’t mean to insult you, I swear! Please don’t be--and you’re teasing aren’t you,” Laura finished, when she saw that Carmilla had started to smile. 

“A little, yeah.” 

Laura crossed her arms. 

“Aw, now you’re the mad one?” 

“A little, _yeah._ ” 

“Would it make you feel better if I let you help…?” Carmilla offered. 

“Really?” 

“Sure.” 

Laura took a few steps closer to the table. “So what’s first?” 

“First, you flour your hands--” And Carmilla dipped her hands in the flour, throwing a pinch of it in Laura’s face. “Like _this_.” 

Laura coughed, waved a hand in front of her face to make the flour dissipate, and sputtered, “you _tricked_ me!” 

“Like I said Laura, I bake alone.” 

“You are in rare, annoying form tonight Carm,” Laura grumbled, “why am I even here?” 

Carmilla frowned slightly. It was her turn to walk forward, tucking a strand of hair behind Laura’s ear. 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Carmilla said softly, “forgive me?” 

“...You got flour in my hair,” Laura breathed. Carmilla shook her head. 

“Shut up?” 

It was a question rather than a statement. Laura nodded, and Carmilla leaned in. It was different from the hard, almost angry kiss they had yesterday or the quick pecks they’d been doing. It was softer; Carmilla took her time, cupping Laura’s cheek while the other rested on her arm. She bit Laura’s bottom lip lightly before pulling away. 

“...Can we pretend that was our first kiss?” Laura asked. 

“I’ll pretend anything you want, babe,” Carmilla answered, “did you want to help?” 

“I thought you ‘bake alone.’” 

“Entertain me then.” Carmilla went back to her table, grabbing a roller and rolling out the dough. “Tell me about yourself. I don’t care what it is.” 

“Um, okay.” Laura wracked her brain to think of something to say. “...My dad actually liked to bake.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah--I mean, emphasis on ‘liked’,” Laura continued, “he was really bad at it. He got really impatient measuring everything so he would just, like, dump a bunch of flour and sugar into a bowl instead of using a cup.” 

“Ah, so he cooked like a caveman.” 

“Awesome at grilling, though.” 

Carmilla put the ingredients in the mixer, walking over to the oven to start preheating before walking back. While the ingredients were mixing, Carmilla grabbed a rolling pin, rolling out the pie dough. Laura stopped talking to watch her. Carmilla didn’t seem to notice or care. She cast the rolling pin aside to finish with her hands, kneading and spreading out the dough. 

“Grab me a pie tin?” 

Laura nodded, almost tripping over herself to grab it. Carmilla stopped the mixer, filled the pie, and shoved it in the oven. 

“So how long is the pie going to take?” Laura asked. 

“Depends on if you want the center to be gooey or not.” 

“Is that seriously a question.” 

“Only fifty minutes then. Of course, it needs to sit for two hours--” 

“Two _hours?_ But it’ll be after one in the morning! I can’t stay out that late!” 

Carmilla didn’t say anything at first. 

“...I guess I’ll have to bring it on our date tomorrow then.” 

“Date?” 

“We’re going on a date tomorrow, and I’ll bring the pie with us.” 

Laura didn’t have a response other than, “okay, then.” 

“Come on, let’s go back before they check on us and ruin our good time.” 

Carmilla grabbed Laura’s hand and started to lead her out. Then it hit her. 

“Wait, we’re going on a date? _When?_ I mean I know it’s tomorrow but like, what time? What should I be wearing? Should I bring anything? Carmilla!” 

“Just relax for once!” Carmilla said, laughing as she pulled Laura back into the dining area with everyone else. 


	16. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ell needs to vent a little.

“Okay guys, now turn off some of the lights. Not all of them! Light the ones directly above the cupcake. Okay.” 

Betty was looking at the food from different angles, making a picture frame with her hands. Carmilla rolled her eyes. 

“Do you have to be so damn dramatic about taking a photo of a cupcake?” 

Betty looked at her. “I got into Princeton for photography and I ended up working as a waitress instead. Let me enjoy actually getting to do what I want, okay?” 

“But it’s a cupcake. It’s not moving. This shouldn’t take so long--” 

“How would you feel if I used cake mix because ‘it’s just a cake?’” 

Carmilla crossed her arms and stopped complaining. She looked at Laura. 

“Is it just the four of us here?”

“I told you, Carm, Perry said it was me, you, and Ell in charge of this. And Betty is photographing the food. We don’t need everyone else.” 

“But I want them to suffer with me.” 

“ _Carm.”_

“Okay, okay,” Carmilla huffed, “but _you_ get to go back home and take a nap after this. Ell and I still have to work. Remember that. Right Cinnabon?” 

Ell flashed a tight lipped smile. “Yeah.” 

It was the first thing she’d said to them all morning. Ell watched Betty work intently, arms crossed in front of her chest. Carmilla raised an eyebrow. 

“And I’m very proud of you for working,” Laura answered, kissing Carmilla on the cheek, “I promise we won’t make doing this a habit, okay?”

“So...what now?” 

“Perry has someone setting up the website,” Laura said, “then it’s just a matter of advertising. It’ll be fun! We’ll make videos and write about the history and stuff. I even made us a tumblr.” 

“Oh, God help us.” 

“It’s important!” Laura replied. 

Carmilla rolled her eyes affectionately. “I’ll be right back. If we’re here I might as well put on my uniform.” 

She walked away, leaving Laura standing next to Ell. 

“How has it been on your end, Ell?” 

“Found someone to make the website. Re-crunched all of your numbers,” Ell looked at her, “you’re really bad at math.” 

“...It was really quick, to be fair.” 

Ell nodded. Laura bit her lip. 

“Look, Ell, maybe we should talk.” 

“What is there to talk about?” 

“Ell, _please,”_ Laura begged, stepping closer and lowering her voice, “I know you’re mad at me and just...you know, you pretending nothing is wrong when I know you’re upset just makes it worse. Yell at me and get it over with.” 

“You... _want_ me to yell at you?” Ell asked. 

“I deserve it.” 

“You _do.”_

“So?” 

Ell considered Laura’s request for a moment before grabbing her wrist, hissing, “outside, _now,”_ and practically dragging Laura out the door into the parking lot. 

Laura had a feeling this parking lot conversation was not going to end as well as it had with Carmilla.

“Oh my God Ell please be somewhat gentle!” Laura exclaimed, holding up her hands. 

Ell didn’t answer at first. She seemed to be trying to figure out what the right thing to say was. She rubbed her face, breathing heavily. 

“...Laura, I trusted you. I trusted you with something _really_ personal.” 

“I know.” 

“And less than a week later you are making out with the woman I told you I was _in love_ with.” 

“To be fair you never said _in_ _love--”_

“Oh, come on, you knew that was what I meant!” Ell snapped. 

Laura couldn’t argue. It _was_ obvious. Ell was absolutely in adorable, best-friends-since-childhood puppy love with Carmilla. It was one of Laura’s favorite tropes. And now here Laura was, inserting herself into what should have been Ell’s love story. Except…

“Ell, listen, this wasn’t something I was _planning,_ I swear,” Laura said, “Carmilla was just--a couple of days ago I stayed behind to talk to her, and it’s pretty obvious she thinks of you as a sister. I didn’t like, make Carmilla change her mind about you or anything--” 

“You knew,” Ell said softly, “you _knew_ how I felt, Laura. And then you start dating her! Right after I tell you! Do you even understand how that _feels?_ And then--and then you’re kissing her and cuddling with her in the diner, rubbing it in my face. I feel like an _idiot.”_ Ell balled her fists. “ _That’s_ how it feels. Like I was an idiot for trusting you. I’m an _idiot._ ” 

Laura put her hands over her mouth. “Ell, I’m so sorry, I really am. I wasn’t _trying_ to date Carmilla--” 

“It is _not_ an accident to shove your tongue down someone’s _throat!”_ Ell shouted, “don’t even try that excuse! You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway!” 

There was the soft click of a door opening and closing, and Laura turned her head. Carmilla was staring at both of them, and Laura realized that Ell had backed her against the wall. 

“...Betty said Ell dragged you out here looking pretty pissed,” Carmilla said, “and I hear you screaming about shoving Laura’s tongue down my throat.” 

Carmilla looked at Laura. “Babe, come here?” 

Laura slinked away from Ell, standing next to Carmilla. 

“Carmilla...listen, I--” 

“Need to apologize for yelling at my shiny new girlfriend,” Carmilla interrupted. 

Ell swallowed. She deflated a little under Carmilla’s gaze and mumbled, “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Laura.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Ell, listen,” Carmilla said, “I think I get why you’re mad. But it’s not _Laura’s_ fault.” 

“You--you _know_ why I’m upset?” 

Carmilla shrugged. “Yeah. I should have known you liked Laura.” 

If Laura had anything to drink, she would have choked on it. As it was, Laura stared at Carmilla. 

“ _Laura?_ You think this is about me having feelings for _Laura?”_

“Uh, yeah. You guys hit it off and I should have noticed.” 

“Um, Carm--” 

“ _You,_ you idiot! I am in love with _you!”_

Carmilla was struck momentarily mute as a blush spread across Ell’s face. 

“Ell I...I swear I did not know that.”

“Well, you were the only one who didn’t,” Ell answered, “and that includes Laura, by the way.” 

Laura smiled sheepishly at Carmilla before quickly looking away. Carmilla put a hand on Laura’s shoulder. 

“Look--Ell--what do you want me to _do?_ I like Laura. I can’t help that.” 

“Well why _her?”_

Laura was glancing between Ell and Carmilla uncomfortably. “What is that supposed to mean? Ell...she's the first person who has made me feel like I’m not a freak for wanting to get out of here. She’s the first person that makes me feel like I might actually deserve more than what I’ve got. She makes me feel like I could _matter.”_

At her explanation Laura couldn’t help but smile slightly at her. She wished the circumstances were better but that didn’t change the fact that she liked hearing Carmilla say it. 

"But _I_ think you matter." 

Carmilla stopped. Ell's hands were clasped, low in front of her. 

"I thought you mattered," Ell said again, "you've always mattered to me, Carmilla. I always thought you were smart, and talented, and all of these wonderful things. But it took Laura saying it to make you believe it?" 

"It's not something I can explain, Ell--" 

"I can," Ell answered bitterly, "it was because someone was telling you that _you_ thought mattered." 

Ell was squeezing one hand in the other now, jaw clenched. Laura couldn’t help but jump in. 

“Ell, I’m not better than you,” Laura said, “I don’t think I am, and if I did it wouldn’t be true.” 

Ell closed her eyes tightly before continuing. 

"You cared when Laura said it because she's smart, she’s going to be a _doctor_ , and she has everything going for her. Because she has the life you wished you had. She's somebody, and I'm a boring girl who works the register at the diner. My opinion doesn't mean shit to you." 

“That isn’t fair, Ell,” Carmilla said, “you know you’re my best friend. And _wow_ that is the first time I have ever heard you swear.” 

“This _isn’t_ fair,” Ell snapped, “especially to Laura, when the only reason you’re dating her is to boost your ego. You’re wrong, Carmilla. You spent so much time telling Laura she acted like she was better than us when _you_ walk around like you’re the poor, unlucky woman _stuck_ here when you should be off to bigger and better things. She didn’t make you feel like you deserved better. She’s just the first person who recognized it that you deem important.” 

Laura bit her lip, brow furrowing. She was trying to be patient. She was trying to understand. But she couldn’t help interjecting to say, “Ell, you don’t need to pretend you’re looking out for me.” 

Carmilla crossed her arms tightly in front of her. “You sound like a _fuckboy,_ Ell. Just because you’ve been nice to me for a long time doesn’t make you _entitled_ to be angry at me for not--” 

“Of _course_ I’m angry! I’m nothing _but_ angry. I’m angry at my parents for dying, I’m angry at myself for letting it happen, I’m angry at my grandpa for being such a _shitty_ grandparent. I’m angry at--at--” Ell blinked back tears. “At Perry for acting like I want the diner to close down, and everyone else for acting like it’s okay for her to do that. I was angry at everyone but _you,_ and then Laura--and now I’m angry at both of you and it’s just--it’s just not--it isn’t fair that you’re gonna win that pie contest and run off with Laura and I’ll probably never see you again, okay?”

“Carmilla, maybe I should go back inside--”

“No Laura. Ell does not get to make you do that.”

Carmilla grabbed Laura’s sleeve, keeping her from walking away. “Ell, I do not owe you anything. _Laura_ does not owe you anything. You are my best friend, but this irrational separation anxiety of yours is getting kind of annoying and you need to stop. Are we clear?” 

Ell jaw dropped. “You think this is _irrational?”_

“Uh, yeah. I think it is. You’re convinced that if I’m happy I’ll never want to speak to you again--my best friend of twenty-two _years._ That I’m planning on packing up and running off with a girl I started dating yesterday. Where the fuck is this coming from?” 

“Because you’ve _already done it!”_

Carmilla was thrown off balance, grip on Laura’s sleeve going slack. Laura was just seriously confused. 

“Carmilla, what is she talking about…?” 

Carmilla swallowed. A hand reached up to absent mindedly twist a lock of Laura’s hair and, without taking her eyes off of Ell, she said, “maybe you should go inside, Laura.” 

“Um, Carmilla, if you think I’m not going to want to know what she’s talking about--” 

“I’ll tell you later, Laura; I promise.” 

She lost any desire to leave at this point. But this _was,_ clearly, a conversation between Carmilla and Ell. Laura, reluctantly, walked back inside. 

“I’ll be right inside if you want to yell at me some more,” she said, right before she closed the door. Which left Carmilla and Ell, together, staring each other down. 

“Is that what this is about, Ell?” Carmilla asked softly, “shit, that was six _years_ ago--” 

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to forget,” Ell snapped, “it’s really hard to forget your best friend disappearing for a week, no calls, no emails, not answering any of my messages. You didn’t even leave behind a damn _letter_ letting me know where you were going!” 

Carmilla ran a hand through her hair. “Ell, I was going through a pretty shitty time. My dad moved away, my mom had just won custody and she was a fucking emotional _wreck_ \--so yeah, I made a dumb decision.” 

“You know, I was having a pretty bad week too,” Ell answered. 

Carmilla’s nostrils flared, and she turned away from Ell. “Well, no wonder you’re angry,” Carmilla answered, “ _clearly,_ I should have consulted my crystal ball,” Carmilla looked back at Ell, miming holding one in her hands. “‘Oh magic crystal ball that predicts the future, should I run away to try and find my dad--oh, Ell’s parents are going to die in a car crash while I’m gone? Well, going to have to reschedule then!’ Is that what you wanted Ell? What the _fuck_ do you want from me now?” 

Ell crossed her arms, shaking her head, then reached a hand up to scratch behind her ear, her movements tense and frustrated. “I want you to acknowledge how much you running away hurt me,” Ell said, “I wouldn’t be so mad if you had ever _apologized._ You don’t know what I went through Carmilla. Danny couldn’t even get home before the day of the funeral! Do you know what it’s _like,_ to have to--to explain to a little boy and girl why their mom and dad are never coming home? I had _no one_ to talk to. The only person I felt comfortable enough to talk to was you. But were you there? No. You were off running around Nashville looking for your dad and ignoring me. You know your mom missed the funeral too? She had to--” 

“Drive up to Nashville after the police found me,” Carmilla interrupted, “Ell, I remember what happened. I remember every detail of what happened. And of _course_ I feel bad about it.” 

“My parents were dead, Danny’s parents were dead, and all everyone was talking about was _you._ And then I had to be there for _you_ instead of the other way around-- _”_

“I know!” Carmilla shouted, throwing up her hands, “and I felt like shit! Of course I felt like shit! You know I’m bad with feelings, Ell, and maybe I should have told you what I was going to do, and maybe I should have called after I ran off, and maybe I should have tried to be a better friend to you after I got back and I heard about what happened. But I didn’t. So tell me what I need to do to make it up to you, but do _not_ stand there and tell me that you have the right to use it as an excuse six years later to guilt me into not being happy. Because this, being here, what my life is now, it’s _not making me happy.”_

“You want to know what I want? Fine. Admit that you don’t give a shit about me. If you really had no idea I felt like this, you clearly don’t. If you never felt the need to apologize after six years because ‘feelings are gross--’”

Ell stopped to take a shuddery breath. Carmilla shook her head. “Ell, I can’t tell you that. I won’t. It’s not true.”

She couldn’t answer; she was crying. Ell buried her face in her hands and Carmilla’s fingers twitched. She may not have been great with feelings, but even she knew when someone really, _really_ needed a hug. So she walked forward, putting her hands on Ell’s shoulders. When she didn’t protest, Carmilla pulled her in. 

“I won’t say it,” Carmilla repeated, “Ell, I may be a shitty friend, I may be insensitive, I may be everything you just said, but if there is one thing in this world I have cared about even when I haven’t cared about anything else, it is you. I’m sorry, okay?” ‘

Ell was taller than Carmilla, and she buried her face in Carmilla’s hair, sniffling wetly. Finally she mumbled, voice stuffy: 

“I want you to be happy. I _do_ Carmilla, I really do. I just wish _I_ could make you happy.” 

“You are the only thing that has made this job bearable sometimes, Cinnabon. Trust me, you’ve done more than you think.” 

“And Laura makes you happy.” 

“Yes,” Carmilla said immediately, “she does.” 

“I guess it’s just been awhile since I’ve been really happy,” Ell said softly. Carmilla’s hold on her tightened a little. 

“I know what you mean. You can get there though.” 

Ell lightly pushed Carmilla away, wiping at her eyes. “I’m a bitch.” 

“No you’re not. You’re repressed. Big difference, Cinnabon,” Carmilla crossed her arms, and they looked at each other uncomfortably. “...Maybe you should take the day off.” 

“I can’t do that, who will run the register?” 

“I’ll tell Perry you’re sick and she’ll make LaFontaine do it.” 

“Are you su--”

“Ell, this is not up for discussion. Go.”

She stared at Carmilla for a moment before tentatively removing her apron and handing it to her. 

“I...please don’t get hurt,” Ell said, “I mean I want you to be happy and Laura is making you happy but I don’t want you to get hurt--” 

“I know what I’m getting into, Ell.” 

Ell bit her lip. “Right. I’ll just--I’m sorry.” 

Carmilla watched her walk away. 

“...Laura, I know you were listening.”

Laura smiled sheepishly. Her ear had been pressed to the door, and she opened it. 

“I’m sorry,” Laura said, “but no offense, you’re terrible at sharing things and I really wanted to know what the heck Ell was talking about--” 

Laura stopped. Carmilla was obviously not paying attention to her, eyes having taken on a dark, faraway look as she stared at the direction Ell left. 

“Carmilla, are you okay?” 

She didn’t answer at first. Carmilla looked down at the ground. 

“Divorce really fucks things up,” she said. 

Laura shook her head, walking forward and putting a hand on Carmilla’s shoulder. “I’m sure it does.” 

“Ell had this--this _perfect_ family, you know?” Carmilla continued, “my parents were always fighting andI was mad at Ell for having a mom that would get out of bed to help with her homework. I was mad at her for having a dad that wanted to come home. So even though Ell hadn’t done anything wrong, I was still a fucking shitty friend. I just didn’t realize…” Carmilla rubbed her temples, “I forgot that Ell wasn’t always like this. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own shit to care. She’s right.”

She looked back at Laura. “Even though she also has no right to interfere with my love life. I’m sorry you had to deal with that shit.” 

Laura rubbed the back of her neck. “Carmilla, _I’m_ sorry. Ell told me she liked you and I should have told you that before I kissed you.” 

“Wow, talk about a violation of girl code.” 

“So you’re mad?” 

“...Honestly it’s hard to be mad when it worked out in my favor. Cupcake, I was never going to date Ell. If it wasn’t going to be you it would have been some other, far less attractive girl I would have had to settle for.” 

“I just…” Laura sighed. “I just wish I could do something to make her feel better.” 

She took Laura in her arms. “Let Ell be my problem, okay? She’ll get over it. I mean, clearly she has some deeper issues involving me, but just see. A few days, a week at most, and she’ll want to be your friend again.” 

“...Thanks, Carm,” Laura whispered, “and for what it’s worth I think you can be a _very_ good friend to Ell.” 

“Well,” Carmilla mused, “I guess you of all people should see how friendly I can be, huh?” 

She let a thumb brush Laura’s cheek as she leaned in to give her a soft kiss. “You should go home and rest up,” Carmilla said, “I’ll come pick you up tonight, okay?” 

“Oooh, where are we going?” 

“My life is way less interesting than yours, Laura, I have to keep the mystery when I can.” 

“But--” 

“See you later, Cutie!” 

Carmilla walked back into the diner. As soon as she did, she looked at Betty. “Betty, you need to help me out.” 

She was perfectly assembling a pyramid of cupcakes. “With what?” 

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!” 

Betty heard Carmilla’s tone and turned around. “Girl, _relax._ It’s just a date.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been on and off with Kirsch since middle school--” 

“Okay, first of all, I am proud to say that I have been Kirsch free for over a year and do not intend on changing that, so let’s not bring him into this. Second-- _Carmilla,_ you are going to be fine. Dating is easy. It’s just talking. You can talk to Laura like a normal human being, yeah?”

“Fine, but where do I take her?” 

“You have lived in this town for over twenty years. You can’t think of somewhere to go?” 

“But--” 

“Carmilla, you’ve _got this._ Worst comes to worst, just make out with her. Pretty obvious she’d be okay with that. Now get out of my way so I can get started on posing this apple pie.” 

Carmilla blew out a frustrated breath. Normally the only person she’d be willing to have a conversation with about this was Ell, but--well. And Betty was no help. 

Which meant Carmilla was on her own. 

***

“Gran, can you stop messing with my hair?” 

“Just let me smooth down some of it, Laur--” 

“No, Gran, I look fine!” 

She stepped away from Laura, who was trying to apply makeup in the bathroom mirror. “I just want you to look nice for your date.” 

“I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard,” Laura answered, “I’ve been on plenty of dates before, Gran, you don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Yes, but this is a date with _Carmilla._ This one is important.” 

She just looked at her disapprovingly. Laura was trying very, very hard not to be nervous, which was hard enough without Gran breathing down her neck. She’d already spent at least two hours getting ready, most of it spent on the waterfall braid--another reason why she didn’t want her hair touched. She worked _hard_ on her hair. 

“I made dinner so you should be good for tonight while we’re gone,” Laura said, deciding to ignore her comment, “I don’t know when we’ll be back, but I’ll try not to be too late.” 

“As long as you’re having fun.” 

Laura sighed. The doorbell rang and she dropped everything, running out of the bathroom. She grabbed a plastic bag on her way out.

She took a deep breath, let it out, and smiled. Then, trying to look as poised as possible, Laura opened the door. 

“Carmilla, hey-- _whoa_ you look really nice there goes my plan to seem even remotely calm and collected.” 

She was wearing black skinny jeans, an untucked white button down shirt, and an unbuttoned grey vest. Carmilla was, also, holding a pie in her hands. 

“I highly doubt your plan would have succeeded anyway,” Carmilla teased, “you look pretty good yourself, Cupcake.” 

Laura looked down at her own mint green summer dress. “Thanks. I have a change of clothes too in case I needed it--” 

“No need,” Carmilla answered. She thrust a box in Laura’s hands. “I made you that cookie pie. Figured you’d appreciate it more than flowers.” 

“I _definitely_ do.” 

Laura turned around and saw that Gran was waiting in the front hallway. She handed the pie off to her. 

“Carmilla, you be good to my granddaughter, you hear?” 

“No problem Mrs. Cochrane,” Carmilla smirked. “But don’t worry Laura, I won’t be _too_ good. I’ll keep things exciting.” 

Laura blushed. “Let’s go before something happens that’s so embarrassing I need to hide in my room forever, okay? Bye, Gran! Carm, come on!” 

She ushered Carmilla away and closed the door. She breathed a sigh of relief at the closed door before smiling at Carmilla. 

“So...where we walking?” 

_“Walking?”_ Carmilla grinned, motioning with her head. Laura followed with her eyes and put a hand over her mouth. 

“Your _motorcycle?”_

Carmilla walked to the curb, grabbing her helmet and slipping it on. “Yes, my motorcycle. You coming?” 

“I...don’t know.” 

“I thought you _liked_ motorcycles.” 

“I _do,_ but I don’t have a helmet.” 

Carmilla held out a hand. “Laura, just trust me.” 

Laura did not trust Carmilla. Not because she had issues with her character, but because she had never seen her drive. 

On the other hand...a motorcycle. Laura grabbed her hand. 

“This better not end in my untimely death.” 

“Don’t worry, that would ruin my plans.” 

“What about my dress?” 

Carmilla paused. 

“...You said you have a change of clothes, right?” 

“You just said I didn’t need them!” 

“Would you prefer getting burned?” 

Laura held up her hands, scrunching her fingers. “Okay, _okay,_ give me a second.” 

She had dropped the bag; she snatched it up in one hand, going back into the house. 

“Laura?” Her grandmother called from the kitchen. 

“I’m just changing, Gran,” Laura shouted, struggling into jeans and a faded t-shirt. She smoothed it out. Not nearly as nice as the dress, but at least her hair still looked good. 

Besides, it was Carmilla’s fault. Laura yanked open the door again and walked back out. “Are we ready _now?”_

Carmilla looked nervous, which made Laura pause. 

“Uh, sorry,” Carmilla said, obviously slightly flustered, “we should be?” 

Laura bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to sound so annoyed.” 

“Yeah, well, not a big deal,” she answered, trying to brush it off. Then she added: “I’d feel better if you had a slice of the pie, though.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Because then at least I know there will be at least one part of this date that you liked.” 

“Don’t say tha--actually, can we walk wherever we’re going?” 

Carmilla blinked. “After all of _that?”_

“Carmilla, just _trust_ me.” 

“...Using my own words against me. Well played.” 

“I try!” 

She turned, running back inside. This time she didn’t even bother talking to Gran at all. She rifled through the cabinets and the utensil drawer, and ran back out. 

“Here.” 

Two slices of pie, two paper plates, and two plastic forks. 

“Dessert before dinner?” 

“Carmilla, I eat dessert before _everything,_ ” Laura pointed out. Carmilla laughed. 

“If my bike is stolen, it’s your fault.” 

She put her helmet back on the bike, grabbing a plate. 


	17. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last piece of fic I'm posting before the end of Carmilla the webseries...it's been a real ride guys.

“So this wasn’t how I expected the first date to start,” Carmilla said, taking a bite of her pie. 

“As long as we’re not missing a reservation because we decided to walk, I don’t mind,” Laura answered, “I hope wherever we’re going doesn’t need them anyway. I mean __look__ at me now.” 

Honestly, Carmilla preferred Laura in her old t shirt and jeans. Things had already deviated from the carefully crafted plan Carmilla had come up with--Laura’s clothing made her feel just a little less out of her depth. 

Although, Laura __still__ looked absolutely gorgeous in those clothes, which was just unfair. 

“I don’t think a single restaurant in Silas has ever needed to have reservations,” Carmilla answered. 

She finished her slice of pie. Carmilla looked around and, after not seeing a trash can, she crumpled the paper plate into a ball and tossed it aside. 

“What was __that?”__

“...What was what?” 

“That was __littering.__ ” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “My apologies?” 

Laura picked the trash up with her free hand. “You shouldn’t just throw trash on the side of the street. That’s all.” 

Carmilla watched Laura scanning for a trash can and said, “you know, this is good. I’m learning things about you.” 

“I mean...not liking litter isn’t what I’d consider a fun fact, but I guess--oooh, there’s a trash can.” 

Laura aimed carefully and shot it into the trash can. Carmilla watched it sail in, mildly impressed.

“That was __not__ a bad shot.” 

Laura shrugged. “I played basketball.” 

Carmilla stared at Laura incredulously until she sighed and clarified, “It has been a __long__ time though.” 

“Long as in…?” 

“Since sixth grade. I was the tallest kid on the team until, like, fifth,” Laura smiled sheepishly, “then everyone else grew and I didn’t.” 

“That’s...kind of hilarious.” 

“So I told you something about myself,” Laura said, raising her voice a little, “your turn to tell me about yourself.” 

“My road to greatness began--” 

“Haha,” Laura said, “no, tell me something __substantial.__ Like…I don’t know, where’d you buy your motorcycle?” 

“I didn’t buy it.” 

“Gift?” 

“My dad.” She mentally berated herself for being too short. Laura frowned slightly. 

“You don’t want to talk about him, do you?” Laura asked.

“...I’d prefer not to, yeah,” Carmilla answered, breathing a sigh of relief when Laura’s response was to smile again. 

“Hey, that’s fine. I understand, I hate talking about my mom sometimes.” 

She wasn’t sure whether she should correct Laura and tell her that Dad __was__ alive, just uninvolved, but she wasn’t going to bring a subject back up that Laura was willing to drop. 

“So…” Carmilla started, “I want the date to be sort of a surprise, but I will tell you we’re going to eat first.” 

“Great,” Laura said, “I’m __starving.__ I mean I know I just ate a slice of pie, but...still.” 

So far they weren’t even holding hands. Carmilla’s was itching to reach out and entwine their fingers, but something just didn’t feel right. Which was strange--they’d certainly had no problem touching before--but Carmilla was determined to have this date go well, so she wasn’t going to push anything. 

“You’ll love it,” Carmilla continued, “it’s called Silk. Very fancy.” 

“‘Silk’ sounds more like a nightclub than a restaurant to me.” 

“I __wish__ Silas had a nightclub.” Carmilla stopped in front of a building with large glass windows. “Here it is.” 

She opened the door for Laura, sweeping a hand out. “After you.” 

Laura giggled. “Of course.” 

As soon as she stepped inside, her eyes widened. “Oh wow, I am __severely__ underdressed.” 

“Your face makes up for it?” Carmilla suggested, closing the door and following her inside. Laura pouted. 

“Well, __someone__ didn’t tell me we were going to a fancy restaurant.” 

“ _ _Someone__ forgot to change back into their dress when they decided they’d rather have pie than a motorcycle.” 

Laura kept her mouth shut. Carmilla talked to the maitre’d, and they were seated at a table. 

“ _ _Wow,__ this food sounds…” 

“Weird?” Laura suggested. 

Carmilla nodded. She turned the menu sideways. “This is supposed to be Italian, would it kill them to have some pizza on the menu? I don’t even know what most of these are supposed to __be__.” 

Laura squinted at the menu. “Okay, I have an idea.” 

 

“Lay it on me.” 

“These all have really long, weird names, so I’ll just order the one that’s easiest to pronounce.” 

“I’ll order the spaghetti, because I actually recognize that one.” 

The waiter came. They both ordered, and before he left Carmilla added, “and a bottle of red wine.” 

“An entire __bottle,__ Carmilla?” 

“Just want to make things fun, Sweetheart,” Carmilla answered with a wink. 

Laura blushed. “That-- _ _no__ \--” 

“Your face says yes.” 

Laura swallowed and changed the subject. “Have you ever been here before? You __clearly__ had never seen the menu before.” 

“This isn’t the type of place you go without a date, Cupcake. Besides, it’s pretty new. Why they think a blue collar town was a good location for an upscale Italian bistro, I’ll never know…” 

“It just seems unlike you, that’s all.” 

“Unlike me? I can be sophisticated,” Carmilla answered. The wine came, and Carmilla poured herself a glass. “See?” 

Laura tilted her head slightly to the side. “I never said you couldn’t be sophisticated. Do __you__ think I think that?” 

“Uh--no. Do you think I think you think that?

Laura rubbed her temples. “Ugh, maybe we should stop before this gives me a headache.” 

Carmilla took a sip and poured a glass for Laura. She grabbed the stem of the glass lightly in her fingers. 

“I actually don’t drink wine that much,” Laura said. She took a sip and smiled at the taste. 

“The first time I got drunk, it was on wine,” Carmilla answered, starting to smile, “I think I was ten?” 

“You got drunk when you were __ten?”__

“My parents had a party once for New Years,” Carmilla said, “and they made Ell and I go upstairs until they called us down for the ball drop. I stole a bottle of wine off the counter and we started drinking it in my bedroom. We got __completely__ smashed before they called us down.” 

Laura put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, what happened?” 

“We both suffered our first hangovers the next morning and Ell wasn’t allowed to speak to me for a month.” 

Telling a story involving Ell reminded her of their argument that morning, and a wave of remorse rolled over her. They were interrupted by the food arriving. 

“...Is that it?” Laura asked, looking down at the plate distastefully, “it’s, like, the size of a postage stamp.” 

“Nothing we can do about it now, I guess.” Carmilla licked her lips before digging in. 

“When I was ten, my best friend and I really wanted to go to the Toys R Us in Times Square,” Laura offered, cutting her meat as she talked, “but my dad didn’t feel like going. So we went by ourselves.” 

“You were ten and running around a city by yourself?” 

“We knew how to take the subway there and how to get back and everything. Honestly, I still think it was pretty impressive. When we got back, Dad kept me locked up in the house until, pretty much when I left college.” 

Carmilla smirked. “I wish I met you when you were younger.” 

Laura took another sip of her wine. “Actually, we __could have,__ couldn’t we? I mean, I visited Silas a couple of times when I was little. With my mom.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah. But I was __really__ young. She died when I was, like, five? So I don’t...remember much.” 

“What do you remember?” 

Laura frowned. Her brow furrowed as she thought about it, taking a bite of her food and chewing. 

“...I remember a park,” Laura said, “Mom would push me on the swing and Dad held me up so I could swing across the monkey bars. And I cried because they wouldn’t let me go on the really tall ‘big kid’ slide.” 

“Well, we only have one park here. There’s a big one behind the Municipal Building.” 

Laura smiled wistfully. “That must be it, then--and this food is delicious,” Laura took another bite, “I don’t care if it’s hard to pronounce.” 

“Yeah, this has to be the best spaghetti I have ever had,” Carmilla motioned for the waiter. “Can we have the check?” 

“Did you have anything else planned after this?” Laura asked. 

“Yeah. I was thinking--” 

The check was placed in front of Carmilla. She looked at it and almost choked. 

“Carm!” 

“Fine--fine,” Carmilla wheezed, chugging down her drink, “just--I’m fine.” 

“How much was it?” 

“The check? __Pfft.__ Nothing I can’t--” 

Laura reached over and snatched it out of her hand. 

“ _ _One hundred dollars?__ That is insane!” 

“Probably because ours both had seafood,” Carmilla answered weakly. 

“I am paying.” 

“Whoa, __whoa.__ I took you out, __I__ am paying.” 

“Carmilla, this is too much money. I don’t want you to spend this much on me.” 

“And I don’t want to be a cheap date. __Give it.__ ” 

Laura held it out of reach when she tried to grab it back. “No!” 

“Cupcake, come __on.__ ” 

“Really, it’s okay. I can afford--” She paused. 

“...What?” 

“I just know the diner isn’t doing well,” Laura said gently. 

“You think you’re so much better off than me that you need to pick up a check? Uh-uh. I asked you out, it’s the rule.” 

Carmilla reached for it again.

“We’re lesbians, Carmilla, we don’t have to conform to gender roles! It’s not a big deal if you don’t pay!” 

She grabbed at the check again, and they wrestled with it until they both became acutely aware of the people in the restaurant staring at them. Laura locked eyes with Carmilla, both of them still holding on. 

“Truce,” Laura suggested, “we both pay for what we ordered?” 

Carmilla still didn’t look happy, but she finally huffed, “fine.” 

“Okay. Alright, that works.” 

Laura placed the bills carefully on top of the table, and Carmilla did the same. They sat in awkward silence until the check was picked up and they could leave. As soon as they reached the street, Laura looked at Carmilla again. 

“So...the two bites of food on my plate were pretty good,” Laura joked. 

“I guess I should have checked the place out first…” Carmilla rubbed the back of her neck. “Hopefully what I have planned next will be better.” 

“What is it?” Laura asked, starting to walk with Carmilla. 

“There’s this art gallery near the end of this block and I thought you might like it?” 

Carmilla was smiling. This seemed like a winner. She did __not__ expect Laura to look like she just suggested that they take a dip in a pool filled with mud. Carmilla must have reacted to it with an equally disapproving look, because Laura shook her head. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean to look so...I mean it’s just that I didn’t expect you to suggest that.” 

“What did you expect me to do?” 

“Not an __art gallery.__ ” 

Carmilla raised her shoulders defensively. “Do I not seem ‘smart enough’ for an art gallery?” 

Laura stopped and crossed her arms. “Okay, will you stop being so insecure?” 

“What the fuck do you mean, insecure?” 

“Stop twisting every single thing I say as an insult or whatever! Did it occur to you that, maybe, I think you’re way too __fun__ to enjoy art galleries?” 

Carmilla blinked. “...Oh.” 

Laura’s hard stance softened; she dropped her arms. “I feel like you have this weird idea that because I live in New York City you have to be super cultured and fancy or whatever so I’ll think you’re interesting,” she said, “and believe me, I don’t. I would have much preferred to have dinner at the diner than at some overpriced restaurant. And I really, __really__ would rather do anything else than go to an art gallery. Especially if you’re only doing it because you think I like it.” 

She had nothing at this point. Everything she’d done had gone wrong. They didn’t end up riding her motorcycle, the pie turned into Laura being horrified at her treatment of the environment, the restaurant turned into a brawl over who would pick up the bill. 

“I--I have no idea what I’m doing Laura,” Carmilla admitted, regretting it as soon as the pathetic words left her mouth. Great. __That__ didn’t make her sound insecure at all. 

A warm smile spread across Laura’s face. “Carm, stop overthinking it. What do you want to do?”

Carmilla took a breath, trying to calm her nerves. Trying to take Laura’s advice. Stop worrying over every little thing. Just do something __fun.__

A thought wormed its way into Carmilla’s head and she couldn’t get it to leave. Maybe it was because she had some red wine in her system. But whatever the reason, Carmilla grabbed Laura’s hand. 

“Come with me,” she said, and before Laura could respond, she started running. 

***

“I really need to learn to stop asking this, but where are we going __now?”__

Carmilla turned her head to look at her. “You wanted a completely unedited Carmilla Karnstein original date idea,” she said, “and you are getting one.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question!” 

“Air of mystery, Cutie.” 

Laura pouted, but decided not to protest. Carmilla actually looked __happy__ for once that night. Not like she was going to throw up from nerves. Her unbuttoned vest was flapping into Laura’s face and she swatted it away. Finally, they stopped to catch their breath. 

“Are we...there yet…?” 

“Almost...just a little farther…” 

Laura looked around her. They had ended up on a walking path next to a field of what looked like wheat. In the distance there was still just enough light that she could see buildings. “Is this Main Street?” 

“Yeah. A few shops here and there. None of them are open this late though.” She motioned with her head. “Come on, it’s just at the end of the street.” 

She grabbed Laura’s hand again, walking with her this time. Laura took a moment to appreciate how surprisingly warm her hand was. When they stopped, Laura raised an eyebrow quizzically. 

“A...building.” 

“The Municipal Building.” 

“It’s hard to imagine anything romantic here, no offense.” 

“No, nothing inside,” Carmilla said casually, “but there’s a park behind it that might be nice. You’ve been there before, right?” 

She winked at Laura before strolling with her behind the building. Laura groaned at what she saw. 

“Carmilla...it’s closed.” 

“...Yeah, should have expected that.” 

Carmilla’s brow furrowed, staring hard at the locked fence. 

“It was a really thoughtful idea though, Carm, really--what are you doing?” 

She strode up to the gate, first tugging on the chain links. When the fence proved too sturdy to be forced, she rubbed her hands together and started to hoist herself up. 

“I am really glad I decided to wear pants and not a dress tonight,” she said, digging her feet into the tiny holes in the fence. 

“Come down from there! Are you __insane?”__

“Finally picked--a winning idea--” Every pause was punctuated with a grunt as Carmilla pulled herself up, “not going--to let this stop me--police have better things to do--actually, not in Silas, it’s pretty boring--but __still__ \--” 

“Carmilla, come down before you hurt yourself!” 

“At this point I might as well just drop on the __other__ side of the fence,” Carmilla pointed out, now almost at the top. With a final pull she managed to get onto the other side and dropped down as Laura wrung her hands. 

“This is so __wrong.__ ” 

“Are we planning on vandalizing anything?” Carmilla asked. 

“Of course not.” 

Carmilla unlocked the fence, swinging it open. “No harm, no foul.” 

Laura bit her lip. “If we’re arrested, I’m not bailing you out.” 

Carmilla smirked. “Noted.” 

Laura walked inside, looking around as if police would burst from the bushes at any moment. When Carmilla locked the gate behind them, she relaxed. 

“Wow, I haven’t been here in almost two decades and everything looks exactly the same.”

“That’s Silas for you.” 

“Come on!” 

It was Laura’s turn to grab Carmilla’s hand. Carmilla looked at her, amused, as Laura pulled her toward the playground.

“Are we going to go on the swings?” Carmilla teased. 

“No, I just want to see if I can do the monkey bars by myself now,” Laura explained, grinning. She stood under them. Then she reached up--and grabbed one of them without having to lift her feet off the ground. 

“Did __not__ think you would be tall enough to do that.” 

“Um. Well,” Laura started walking, grabbing each bar in turn. When she reached the end she flashed a cheesy smile at Carmilla, who laughed. “I __can__ do it by myself now!” 

“You are __ripped,__ Cupcake,” Carmilla said with mock amazement. 

“Yeah, I work out.” 

Carmilla looked around her and pointed. “Let’s sit?” 

“Wait. One more thing.” 

Laura ran over to the big slide.

“Oh my God Cupcake--” 

“Hey, last time I was here my parents wouldn’t let me go on the big slide,” Laura said, “I’m not going to pass this opportunity up!” 

She grabbed the hand rails, starting to climb up. She looked back down. 

“You coming?” 

__“No.”_ _

Laura pouted. “Fine. I guess if you __don’t__ want to press me against your chest and wrap your legs around me…” 

Carmilla’s mouth felt dry. Her mouth fell open, just a little, and she managed not to stammer when she answered, “you __little shit.”__

“Well?” 

She sighed. “ _ _Coming.”__

“Yay!” 

Carmilla followed Laura up to the top of the slide. Laura sat down, and Carmilla carefully sat behind her, wrapping her arms around Laura’s waist. 

“This okay?” Carmilla whispered. She felt Laura shiver. 

“Great. Fine. Awesome.” 

Carmilla smirked. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

She pushed off. Laura shouted with delight, raising her hands like she was on a rollercoaster. When they reached the bottom they landed on their feet. “Let’s do it again!” 

“Okay Cupcake, one time was enough,” Carmilla answered. She pointed. “Come on, let’s sit.” 

It was a Merry-Go-Round. Laura hopped on, making it spin slightly until Carmilla sat down and dug her feet into the dirt. 

“This was fun,” Laura said, “I don’t condone breaking and entering, but I’m not going to lie, I’m glad we did this.” 

“Oh, thank God. I was afraid this would be a complete disaster.” 

“There was still your pie.” 

“Still.” 

Laura placed her hand over Carmilla’s and they smiled at each other, swaying the Merry-Go-Round back and forth. Fireflies were lighting up around them, and Laura honestly couldn’t think of anything prettier than where she was right then--mostly having to do with who she was with, honestly. 

“I could have lived here, you know,” Laura said suddenly, making Carmilla tilt her head. 

“And I could have been the Queen of Sheba?” 

“No, __really.__ I was just thinking about it. What if my dad had moved down here instead of my mom moving to New York? I would have lived here my entire life. Things would have been so much different.” 

“Yeah, your life would have been way less interesting.” 

Laura considered it. “I bet you, Ell and I would have been best friends.” 

Carmilla hummed. “A trio, huh?” 

“And I would have been to the diner so much that Perry and I would have been really good friends too,” Laura continued, “Dad might have not been scared to let me go outside by myself. We would have been able to come here and play whenever we wanted. And--and I would have tasted all your desserts when you started to learn how to bake.” 

“Ell would not be happy to hear that you would have had half of the pie she got,” Carmilla interrupted, and Laura continued. 

“In the winter I could have built big snow forts in a backyard instead of just trying to making a little snowman on my balcony. We would have had really big snowball fights. Who knows if I would have still even been a doctor. Maybe I would have done something else. Worked at the diner, maybe or--or you know, there was a month or two in college where I considered journalism instead,” Laura nodded, “maybe I would have done __that.”__

“What made you stick with medicine?” 

Laura sighed. “When you have your entire life planned out for as long as you can remember, by the time you’re in college it doesn’t really __feel__ like a choice anymore, you know?

Carmilla’s hands pressed into her thighs. “Yeah. I...think I kind of know that you mean,” she answered softly. 

“So honestly, it’s kind of fun,” Laura continued, “to imagine what could have happened if I lived an entirely different life. Laura, the small town southern country girl. It seems so much...simpler.” 

She fell back, looking up at the sky. 

“What you call ‘simple’, I call boring.” 

Laura shrugged. Carmilla laid back with her. 

“...You know we have a lot of light pollution in New York,” Laura said, “I’ve never seen this many stars.” 

Carmilla’s hand grabbed Laura’s, fingers entwining together. 

“I used to look at them a lot,” Carmilla replied, “it was kind of an escape. I’d just think, we’re so small in comparison. There are people on the other side of the world looking at the same constellations. In the grand, cosmic scheme of things, getting out of Silas is walking about two steps.” 

Laura turned her head toward her. “Used to, though?” 

“It was stupid.” 

“I don’t know, I kind of like it.” Laura put a hand on Carmilla’s cheek. “I’ll remember that back home when I think about how far away I am from all of you.” 

And they were kissing, Carmilla trying to roll on top of her, making the Merry-Go-Round start to spin slightly. 

“Wait, wait,” Laura breathed, “let me just, like, lift my feet so they’re not dragging in the dirt.” She scooched back, Carmilla putting a hand behind her head to keep her from hitting it on one of the metal bars. Carmilla tucked her legs under her, and bent down again as soon as Laura settled. 

“We need to go back home before Gran wonders where I am,” Laura said. 

“Or, __or,__ we can stay here and make out the rest of the night.” 

“Do you __want__ her to think we’ve been--actually, don’t answer that.” 

Carmilla laid her chin on Laura’s chest and smirked. Laura couldn’t help but wonder if, when her mother had taken her to this park, she had ever thought she would be back one day with Carmilla Karnstein. 


	18. Good Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The series is officially over and I HAVE EMOTIONS.

Technically the video was so that they could bring visitors to the diner's website. In reality, Laura would be lying if she said it had nothing to do with wanting to see the reaction her friends would have when they checked her youtube channel and saw Laura making a video that just happened to feature her new incredibly hot girlfriend.

"We just introduce ourselves guys," Laura said, sitting in a corner booth, everyone crowded around her, "and talk a little bit and stuff. A link to the website is going to be in the description." 

"Oh dear, I've never been on camera before..." Perry said. 

"It's okay, Perry, we can edit this later," Laura assured her, "you'll look fine. In three...two...one!" Laura started recording on her laptop. 

"Hey, youtube! So it's been a month since I made a new video--sorry about that. I've been really busy with moving down south to take care of my grandmother over the summer. I kind of forgot. So I thought I'd give you guys an update on my life. First of all...I got a brand new girlfriend!" 

Laura grabbed Carmilla and made her lean over so her face was in the frame. "Uh, hey guys." 

"She's pretty, right?" Laura looked at Carmilla. "You are like, so pretty." 

"I know, babe," Carmilla answered, smirking, "and now all your friends back home get to see how pretty I am too, right?" 

"Maybe," Laura said evasively, "but guys, I met her right where we are now--it's this place called Silas Diner, and Carmilla--" 

"Which is my name." 

"--yeah, it is. So Carmilla bakes all of the pies and stuff here. And guys," Laura leaned into the camera, "it is the best thing I have ever tasted, hands down. I want to introduce you guys to everyone else that works here! Hold on, actually, it'll be easier to turn this the other way."

Laura turned the camera around and, through some awkward maneuvering, managed to crawl out of the booth. She stood behind Perry and LaFontaine, putting her hands on both their shoulders. 

"This is Lola Perry and LaFontaine. They own the diner! They were only married for a week when I got here. Right guys?" 

Perry looked nervous, but waved at the camera. "Well, hello everyone." 

LaFontaine smiled. "'Sup internet."

"And then we have Danny and Elsie, they're the chefs. Kirsch is the busboy..." Laura was pulling everyone into frame, and they all stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "...And then finally, we have Ell. She works the register. Say hi, Ell!"

Ell looked absolutely terrified and managed to squeak out 'hey' before shrinking back from the camera. Carmilla got up from the booth and put an arm around Laura's waist. 

"This diner has been around for seventy years! Perry's grandparents ran it, and eventually Perry's parents passed it down to her," Laura narrated, "and everyone who works here as like one big happy family. It's just a really, really nice place to be. Which is why we really hope you'll check out our website in the description. We're selling Carmilla's baking, which believe me, is the opportunity of a lifetime. Her desserts are made with--" 

"Laura, if you say love I swear I will throw up." 

"...Ego. They are made with a pinch of Carmilla's giant ego." 

Carmilla kissed Laura on the cheek. "I'll take it."

"We hope you guys will take a look--Betty photographed all of the pictures of food, and they look awesome. Bye guys!"

Everyone waved, and Laura shut the camera off. 

"...Wow, I felt awkward," Danny said. 

"You guys have never been on camera before?" Laura asked. 

"We didn't even have a website before you showed up, Laura," Elsie pointed out.

"Maybe the awkwardness will come across as endearing?" Perry suggested. 

LaFontaine frowned. "I sure hope so. Back to work for now though, I guess--" 

"No wait, guys!" Laura pulled out her phone, "we need to take a selfie first! For our twitter and our tumblr!" 

"Bro, we have a twitter now? Awesome!" Kirsch gave a thumbs up, grinning while he waited for the picture. Carmilla rolled her eyes. 

"Why the fuck do we need a twitter, Laura, we're a diner." 

"Because you trust me since before now you never even went on twitter, let alone knew how to use it for business," Laura said.

Carmilla frowned, but moved behind Laura, hugging her and placing her chin on Laura's shoulder. "Before you ask, no, I will not be smiling." 

"Fine," Laura huffed, "everyone say 'cheese!'" 

Laura took the picture. "And...posted!" 

"Great," Perry said, "can we get to work now?" 

"Yes, Perry, you can get to work." 

"Everyone, get moving!" 

Perry clapped her hands and they all scrambled, except for Carmilla. She still had her arms around Laura's waist. "I'll see you when I get off of work, babe?" 

Laura turned a little in Carmilla's arms to look at her. "When you get off work? I could be here all day." 

"I have to work sometimes," Carmilla answered, smiling, "but we can have lunch on break." 

"That would be awesome. Have a good day at work." 

Carmilla gave Laura a kiss and left. She sighed. 'Have a good day at work?' All she was missing was calling Carmilla 'honey.' 

***

"You are seriously weirding me out, Carmilla," Betty remarked. Carmilla looked up from where she was wiping down a table. 

"Why?" 

"You're smiling." 

Carmilla shrugged, coughing for a moment on the smell of lemon-y disinfectant wipes. "And?" 

"You are never this happy while you're working--in fact, you're never happy, period." 

"Well, things change." 

"Got laid, huh?" 

Carmilla turned red. "No, I did not 'get laid'," Carmilla answered, twisting the disinfectant wipe in her hands, "we just had a nice date last night. That's all." 

"How are you the one that ends up dating the super hot successful person?"

"Luck, and really good genetics," Carmilla answered, flipping her hair. Betty scoffed and changed the subject. 

"Hey, any reason why Ell has been weirdly broody lately? It's like you guys switched brains." 

"Uh...no idea," Carmilla twisted the wipe so much that it ripped in half. Betty raised an eyebrow and she sighed. 

"Okay, so..." Carmilla moved a little closer so no one would overhear. "Ell apparently has a crush on me?" 

Betty snorted. 

"What the fuck was that, Betty?" 

"You didn't know that?”

"No, I did not know that! You did?" 

"Everyone did. What planet are you living on?" 

Carmilla remembered their argument, and Ell talking about how everyone knew. She thought Ell was just being dramatic. Apparently not. 

“Jesus, Betty, you couldn’t have told me? I would have maybe _talked_ to Ell first before I bragged to her about how I was making out with Laura in the parking lot!” 

“I thought you were just being an asshole. To be fair you _are_ an asshole.” 

“Not to my best fucking friend,” Carmilla said. 

“You were fine hugging and kissing her in front of Ell before,” Betty pointed out. 

“I’m also not going to pretend we’re not dating in front of her. But I could have--I don’t even know, but whatever I would have done would have been better than having her blow up at me in the parking lot.”

 

“Ah, I _thought_ that was why I heard shouting in the parking lot yesterday.” 

Carmilla crossed her arms and breathed out through her nose. “I’m going to go check on the pie I have in the oven,” she said, walking past Betty before she could answer. She burst through the doors to the kitchen. 

“Checking on my pie,” Carmilla announced, opening the oven door. 

“Uh, Carmilla, you literally _just_ put that pie in the oven,” Danny said. 

“Great,” Carmilla shut the door a little too loudly, sighing. “Let me know when it goes off.” 

“Will do, Carmilla,” Danny answered distractedly, flipping a pancake on the griddle. Carmilla pulled out her phone. Laura was supposed to text her when she was coming back so that Carmilla could take her break for lunch. No such text had come yet. She slipped the phone back in her pocket and walked out--only to find Laura at the counter. 

“Laura! You were supposed to--” 

“Carmilla, you _need_ to see this.”

Laura showed Carmilla her phone. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“Those are how many people have ordered from the website.” 

“Holy _shit,_ that many?” 

Laura nodded. “Also, the twitter is exploding. I’m going to give you all the password, and also I should make you all admins of the tumblr anyway--” 

“But _how_ did we get orders this fast?” 

“I told you, the social media worked!” Laura bragged, “as soon as people saw how good your cupcakes looked it just exploded! We already have over a thousand notes on tumblr, and we got a ton of likes on youtube, not to mention twitter followers--by the way, my friend Sarah Jane sent me this snapchat.” 

She showed Carmilla the snap, of a girl with a look of fake shock and outrage and the caption: _when your best friend’s new girlfriend is really hot and she doesn’t tell you first._

“She has good taste,” Carmilla said. 

“She most certainly does. Hey, Perry!” Laura waved frantically at her when she saw her leaving her office with LaFontaine, “ _Perry,_ look at this!” 

“Huh?” Perry looked over Laura’s shoulder. “Oh my God, that many _already?”_

“I know!” 

Perry grabbed Laura’s hands. “This is going to work!” 

“This _is_ going to work!” 

They both started jumping up and down. “It’s going to work! It’s going to work! It’s going to _work!”_

Perry turned around and kissed her spouse soundly. 

“...Wow, this is going to work.” 

Kirsch, Danny, and Elsie were watching them and started to cheer. Laura looked like she was about to take a mock bow when the door to the kitchen opened again. 

“Um, guys? I lost rock paper scissors, so Betty sent me in to check on the noise in here--” 

“Ell, check this out!” Laura exclaimed, running up to her and showing her the phone, “this many orders already!” 

She scanned Laura’s phone, running a hand through her hair. “Oh boy.” 

“‘Oh boy?’ Shouldn’t you be a little more excited?” 

“I mean, this _is_ a good thing, but...guys,” Ell looked at all of them, “how are we going to run the restaurant _and_ bake all of this? Do we even have room for all of the shipping boxes we’re going to have to store?”

Every face in the room fell. 

***

“Okay guys, this is really simple,” Ell said, “we have food costs. When you have to buy _small_ amounts, each individual unit of product--in this case, cupcakes, pie and brownies--will cost _more_ to make. Got it?” 

Ell had the chalk menu board set up on a table, and Ell was pointing to what she wrote with the handle of a soup ladle. Laura was taking notes furiously while Carmilla leaned back in the booth with her arms crossed. 

“Yes, I understand,” Laura said. 

“Good. But when you buy in _bulk,_ ” Ell continued, “and you’re obviously using everything you buy, the cost of the ingredients goes down, so each unit of product costs _less_. Alright? Carmilla?” 

“Yeah, yeah, buy more good, buy less bad.” 

Ell frowned. “You need to pay attention, Carmilla! Perry is counting on the three of us!” 

(When it occurred to her how much more work it would take to essentially run two different businesses, Perry had declared that ‘the three of you are in charge of that part of this business, _you_ deal with it.’)

 

“My job is to make the food. Why do I need to know this?” 

“Because you should at least be familiar with business if you’re going to run one with the two of us. I can’t be around all the time...and honestly I’m not sure I want to be…” Ell bit her lip for a moment before letting go. Carmilla took a breath. 

“...Fine. Continue.” 

“Okay. So our goal is to spend about sixty cents on ingredients, eighteen cents on packaging…” 

Laura nodded, still taking notes. She wasn’t paying attention to Carmilla until Laura felt a hand on her thigh. 

She glanced at Carmilla out of the corner of her eye. She’d learned by now what Carmilla looked like when she was trying to be a little shit. This wasn’t one of those times; she probably wasn’t even thinking about what she was doing. But _Laura_ certainly was--

“Laura, are _you_ even paying attention?” 

“If Carmilla wasn’t trying to seduce me!” Laura squeaked. 

“Wait, what the Hell? I didn’t do a damn thing!” 

“You put your hand on my thigh and it distracted me--” 

“Christ Laura, what did you think I was going to do, feel you up underneath the table--” 

They both stopped and looked at Ell, quickly turning red. 

Ell put the ladle down. She closed her eyes, steepling her hands together. After a moment of breathing deeply through her nose, she looked at them. 

“...You know what, I _really_ don’t feel like watching you both flirt. I’ll figure out how we’re going to get this done myself.” 

“Ell, wait--” Laura stopped when she recognized that Ell clearly was not listening. She glared at Carmilla. 

“Do _not_ look at me for this one, Sweetheart,” Carmilla said, “ _you’re_ the one getting all hot and bothered because I felt like putting a hand on my girlfriend while she sat literally right next to me.” 

Laura slid her notepad over to her. “Here’s all of the notes you should know.” 

“You seriously took _notes._ ” 

“I’m in school; of course I take notes. Pretty good ones, if I do say so myself.” 

“Maybe this is because I’m not ‘educated’,” Carmilla said, turning the notepad sideways before righting it again, “but I do not know what half of this is.” 

“Oh! Sorry,” Laura grabbed it again, “it’s not your fault, I forgot that I write a lot of it in shorthand…” 

She smiled sheepishly. “I feel kind of bad though. I don’t want to make Ell do all the work by herself…” 

“Well if she’s going to be so annoying about it,” Carmilla mumbled. Laura frowned. 

“I just wish there was _something_ we could do.” 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know, help Ell get more friends.” 

“Ell is the shyest human being on the planet, Laura. How are we finding her new friends, exactly?” 

“I don’t know I just--I mean--it would make things easier for everyone, wouldn’t it?” 

Carmilla sighed. “Look, Cupcake, if you want to go on a crusade to try and fix Ell’s life, be my guest. Just promise me you won’t do something completely stupid.”

Laura crossed her arms. “I can’t promise that. But I _can_ promise that it will be well intentioned! Now, let’s work on something important.” She pulled out her phone. “ _Twitter._ ” 

*** 

She’d included a link in the description of their youtube video for the ‘official Silas Diner twitter’. Apparently, they were already getting questions. Which, according to Laura, called for them to sit down and answer them. 

“I don’t understand the point of this,” Perry announced. 

“If we personalize our social media, it helps--” 

“No, I meant _why_ do people use this? Why would you want to use a service that only allowed 140 character messages?” 

“Because people don’t like to read?” LaFontaine suggested. 

“Can we focus, please?” Carmilla said, as they all crowded around the computer in Perry’s office. “Okay. First question--’Laura, how long have you and Carmilla been together?’” 

She frowned. “Um. Do we have to answer that?” 

“It’s not that personal of a question,” Laura said, typing, “‘We have been together for about two days, officially--and a little heart. Signed, Laura.’” 

“Okay, next one,” Perry began to read, “‘Can I order Carmilla off the website too...hashtag hot damn.’” Perry’s face twisted in disgust.

Before Laura could say anything, Carmilla was pushing them both out of the way and typing. 

“‘Hey douche--” 

“Language, Carmilla!” Perry said. Carmilla backspaced. 

“‘I am, fortunately, taken and I suggest you try a mail order bride service rather than an online bakery--signed, C.’” She looked at Perry. “Is that an appropriate response to a creepy guy online trying to hit on me?” 

“She’s being too nice,” Laura grumbled, and Carmilla turned her head to smile at her. Perry pushed Carmilla away. 

“From now on, _I_ will be the only one using this twitter account unless they specifically ask someone else on staff to answer! Carmilla, we need to be nice to the customers. Is that so hard to remember?” 

“It’s hard enough remembering to be nice to Laura.” She looked at Carmilla disapprovingly. “Just kidding, babe. Lunch break now? _Please?”_

“Go ahead guys,” LaFontaine said. Carmilla grabbed Laura and dragged her out--but not before noticing LaFontaine allowing Carmilla’s tweet to be posted. 

Carmilla sat down at a booth with Laura. 

“Not the counter?” 

“This is a lunch date Laura. I don’t do lunch dates at the counter.” 

“Oh, it is?” Carmilla grabbed Laura’s hand on the table top.

“Yes, it is.” 

“Okay, you both are disgusting,” Betty announced, walking up to their table, “let me guess. You want one milkshake with two straws?” 

Carmilla wrinkled her nose. “Ew, no.” 

“First of all, I’ve seen this menu a million times and you guys don’t have milkshakes--” 

“And second, if you _did,_ you bet your ass I’m not going to share mine.” 

“Oh, finishing each other’s thoughts,” Betty said, rolling her eyes, “how _adorable.”_

“...Just bring us two slices of pot pie, _Elizabeth.”_

Betty wrote it down, walking away. 

Carmilla slung an arm around Laura’s shoulders, leaning in to kiss her temple. Laura sat with her in comfortable silence for a moment. 

“So this is what it’s like being your girlfriend, huh?” 

Carmilla rested her chin on Laura’s shoulder. “Uh, yeah, I guess it is.” 

“Why do you sound so unsure?” 

“...Because I had no idea what I’d be like as a girlfriend, to be honest.” 

Laura smiled softly. “Aw, Carm, that’s so sweet. You’re doing a good job.” 

“Well, it’s been one day, we’ll see about that.” 

“You can last two months,” Laura answered flippantly, then realized what she had said. She bit her lip and it took Carmilla stroking a hand down her arm soothingly to calm her down. 

“I can, and I will enjoy every second of it,” Carmilla answered. 

They smiled at each other, and Laura was about to lean in for a kiss, when they heard stomping. Laura looked away (which annoyed Carmilla greatly) and saw Danny stomping around the diner floor with a cellphone. 

“Seriously, you can’t? At all? Uh-huh. Look, I really can’t _afford_ to leave. There’s _nothing_ you can do? Okay. Alright. Look, I’m not mad at you, it’s not like this was something you should have scheduled in your calendar. Thanks anyway. I’ll figure something out.” 

Danny pocketed her phone. She tapped her fingers against her thigh, licking her lips, brow furrowed in deep thought. 

“Um, Danny?” Laura turned in her seat, “are you alright?” 

Danny looked at her. “Tucker threw up in daycare.” 

Carmilla made a disgusted face. “Yikes.” 

“Yeah, I think he has the flu,” Danny continued, “so I’m going to have to leave now to go pick him up, but if I do _that_ I’m not getting paid for working today. I mean, I can’t come _back,_ I need to take care of him. And he can’t stay there, he’ll get the other kids sick. So I’m going to be behind, _again.”_

She ran a hand through her hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. She paused. “Laura. Do you think you could? I mean I know I’m asking for a ton, but I _really_ can’t afford not working, and as soon as work is over I’ll be back.” 

Carmilla was trying to subtly shake her head and Laura elbowed her. 

“Danny, as much as I _want_ to--” She shot Carmilla a pointed look, “--I have to drive Gran to an appointment.” 

“Carmilla--” 

“Red, I don’t have a convenient reason to say no, but think about who you’re asking and the potential consequences. I can’t even take care of a plant.” 

“...Well I am screwed out of a paycheck.” 

Danny looked like she was about to go back into the kitchen, possibly to find Perry or LaFontaine and tell them what happened, when she was soft by a voice barely loud enough to be heard: 

“I can go pick them up if you want?” 

Danny stopped. She turned around and looked at Ell. 

“Ell?” 

Ell seemed to be using her counter as if it were a shield, gripping the edge, biting her lip for a moment. “Um, yeah. I’ve taken care of them before. I mean I know it’s been awhile, but still…” 

“But I don’t want you to miss work. You won’t get paid.” 

“I can afford it. You can’t.” Ell stepped out from behind the counter, untying her apron. “It’s fine. Really.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Danny stared at Ell as she carefully folded her apron, purposefully not looking directly at her. When Ell looked up--presumably to tell Perry something came up--she was stopped by Danny rushing forward and giving Ell a bear hug. 

“Eloise Abbott, you are a _saint._ Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for this.” 

Ell went rigid. She looked completely unsure of what to do with herself, until she finally relaxed. Just a little. Not enough to return the hug, but enough to smile. 

“You don’t need to. I missed spending time with the twins.” 

Danny let go. Ell swallowed, subtly. “...So I’m going to go and come back whenever I have your number if I need to call you so see ya okay bye.” 

Ell turned sharply and walked out. 

“She didn’t tell Perry where she was going,” Carmilla pointed out. 

“...I’ll go tell her,” Danny answered. She walked back into the kitchen. Betty came back with their food and Carmilla rested a hand on Laura’s knee, digging her fork into her potpie. 

“See, that’ll cheer her up,” Carmilla said, “weirdly enough, Ell _likes_ taking care of children. Never understood it. Cupcake?” 

“Huh?” 

“You listening or are you too entranced by my incredible, glistening apple pie filling?” 

Actually, Laura was thinking about how nervous Ell looked. 

And how surprised Danny was when Ell spoke to her. 

And Ell looking like she didn’t know how to react to being hugged. 

And the fact that Ell must have hung out with Danny at _some_ point, otherwise why would she talk about how she used to babysit the twins and have Danny’s number? 

And most of all, how incredibly guilty Laura was for how she betrayed Ell’s trust, and how _great_ it would be if, maybe, she could make it up to her. 

“...Um, yeah,” Laura took a bite. “This pie is _fantastic.”_


	19. Eloise Abbott Pie

Carmilla, unsurprisingly, had a minimally furnished home. Everything was out of date, right down to the boxy television and the old, dingy couch which had a floral pattern that _screamed_ 1980s. Carmilla thought she was making it better by covering it with a blanket--which was a good idea in theory, except that it was a leopard print blanket. 

So yeah, Carmilla had ugly furniture. But Laura was way more focused on the fact that Carmilla was pinning her against the armrest and sucking what was sure to be a pretty large hickey into the side of her neck. 

(She _would_ be lying, however, if she said that the reason she was the one on her back had nothing to do with not wanting to stare at that God awful floral-on-leopard-print upholstery.) 

“Hey Carm,” Laura gasped, and Carmilla stopped to rest her forehead against Laura’s, hair hanging down and tickling her cheeks. 

“...Yes?” 

Laura cupped Carmilla’s face in her hands, leaning in to kiss her. Carmilla bit down on Laura’s lip, just hard enough for Laura to feel it but not enough to hurt, and Laura let a moan escape before trying to press on. 

“Okay, so Danny and Ell this morning. What is with them?” 

“ _Ugh,”_ Carmilla wrinkled her nose a little, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “This is what you think about when I’m trying to make out with you?” 

“Can you blame me for being a little curious?”

“Maybe you _should_ switch to journalism creampuff.” 

Laura grabbed Carmilla’s denim jacket, and she pulled her in for another kiss, hoping to make her a little more susceptible to Laura’s inquiry--plus it was just really, _really_ fun. “Look,” Laura said breathlessly, “I just--they _should_ be friends, shouldn’t they be? I mean, their parents died in the same car together. It’s weird that they would go through that and then avoid each other.” 

“It’s more Ell avoiding her than the other way around, Cupcake.” 

“Why?” 

“Do you really want me to spill Ell’s secrets? We both know how learning Ell’s secrets worked out last time.” 

Laura pouted. Carmilla was moving like she was going to sit up, and Laura gripped Carmilla’s jacket even tighter, holding her in place. Carmilla sighed. 

“You really won’t let this go?” 

“Come on, Carmilla, I just feel so _guilty_ about Ell.” 

“And me telling you this will help because…?” 

“Because--because--I don’t know, okay? But to find a cure for a condition you need to know all the symptoms and their causes. That’s like, Doctor 101.” 

“Mm-hm. What was your grade point average again?” 

“ _Carmilla.”_

Carmilla blew out a breath to get her bangs out of her eyes, and Laura squinted a little. Carmilla ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. 

“Ell blames herself for the car accident.” 

Laura’s stomach dropped. “Oh my God, she thinks it’s her fault? Why?” 

“From what she told me,” Carmilla said slowly, “I, uh...I kind of pulled my disappearing act. And she got into a fight with her dad about it. So he got really angry.” 

“Yes…?” 

“Mr. Abbott--who I want to make very clear wasn’t like, an alcoholic or anything--he and Ell went at it for a bit because he thought I was a punk and a bad influence, which of course pissed Ell off. And he tried to calm himself down because he had plans to go out with Danny’s parents. So he had a drink before he left.” 

Laura’s brow furrowed. “ _Oh._ So he was…?” 

“Not over the limit. But Ell blames herself because she got him mad, so he had a beer, so of course that was why…” Carmilla finished with a shrug. This time Laura did move a little away, pressing her knees to her chest as she scooted back. 

“But that is so obviously not her fault. Like at all.” 

“Of _course_ it isn’t. Any idiot can see that it was just really shitty luck. But...this is Ell,” Carmilla rested an arm on Laura’s knees, then her chin on top of that. “She _wants_ to blame herself for it. She couldn’t stop it from happening but she could punish herself for letting it happen, you know?” 

“I know. It’s a control thing.” Like her father, who gave up motorcycles and banned junk food from their house and put Laura in every sort of protective gear he could find because he couldn’t protect her mother. Not exactly the same thing, but...Laura understood the desire for control after a random tragedy. “Were Ell and Danny close before that?” 

“Define ‘close.’ Danny was a few years older. Ell thought she was _the_ coolest person ever and she would hang off her every word whenever she visited from college. I guess they were friends but like, in a mentor-mentee sort of way. And the twins were so young when Danny went off to college that she was more like a sister to them than Red for awhile.” 

Carmilla sighed. “Cupcake, have I satisfied your curiosity enough for the moment? Because Ell is the _last_ person I want to think of right now.” 

The gears were turning in Laura’s head, a plan starting to come together. A really vague plan. But a plan nonetheless. 

“Yep, we can return to our regularly scheduled kissing now.” 

Carmilla grinned. “Oooh, so this is going to be regularly scheduled, huh?” 

“Well, _duh,_ of course it is.” 

Thy started kissing again, and Laura knew it was stupid to be thinking all poetically, especially when this was so new and so fragile. But she couldn’t help but feel her heart get all light and her stomach fluttery when she could feel Carmilla whispering things against Laura’s lips as she kept kissing her. 

“Have I called you beautiful yet?” Carmilla asked. 

“Um, no,” Laura laughed softly, “but I’ll take this to mean you want to?” 

“Yes.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“You, my dear, are absolutely beautiful.” 

“So are you,” Laura answered. 

They started kissing again, and Laura wasn’t sure how long they laid on the couch together until the tips of Laura’s fingers were just barely dipping below the waistband of Carmilla’s jeans and Carmilla was whispering that it was getting late. 

“I _know,_ your point?” 

“Cupcake, you’re always the one complaining that you need to study and take care of your ailing grandmother and whatever else you need to do.” 

“Let me be a little rebellious Carm, come on.” 

Carmilla shook her head, just slightly, smiling at the ground. She got up and held out a hand for Laura--who, reluctantly, grabbed it and stood up. She didn’t let go. 

“I haven’t done anything really rebellious in awhile,” Carmilla answered, “I mean, the last thing was the tattoo and that was six years ago.” 

Laura’s mouth dropped. “Wait-- _tattoo?”_

“I’ll walk you to the door.” 

“Where is the tattoo?” Laura asked, “come on Carm, where is it? I haven’t seen it.” 

“Well you wouldn’t, it’s not in a place you normally show off in public.” 

She was doing it on purpose to get a rise out of Laura, and she _knew_ that, but she didn’t care. “Where? Come on, I’m your girlfriend, I’m going to see it _eventually.”_

Carmilla licked her lips at the insinuation and then said, “if you want to see it you’ll have to earn it.” She opened the door. “‘Night, Cutie. I need to figure out the logistics of baking a shit ton of Cupcakes and shipping them across the country.” 

“You cannot just not tell me you little shit--” 

“ _Swearing?_ Cupcake, you would only swear if you’re too tired to think about what you’re saying. You clearly need to go home.” 

She had been leading Laura toward the door as she spoke, and Laura opened the front door, turning around as Carmilla leaned against the door frame. 

“Can I at least get a kiss goodnight?” ‘

Carmilla nodded, and Laura leaned in to kiss her. Once, twice, three times before reluctantly pulling away. 

“Dating you is infuriating. I couldn’t even get you to stop being annoying by seducing you.” 

“You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” 

Laura sighed. She knew Carmilla was right--it was getting late. What was she expecting, to be there all night? It _did_ cross her mind, albeit briefly, but...she wasn’t sure if she was ready for Gran if Laura came home in the morning. She would _know._ The thought was enough to make her want to die from embarrassment. 

“Bye.” 

She started walking away. Carmilla didn’t move; Laura realized, wait, Carmilla was going to stand there and just watch her leave. What a sap. 

***

It was amazing, the things Carmilla picked up without realizing it. As soon as Laura marched into the diner, she wasn’t sure what it was--the forward leaning gait, the slight upturn of the head, or the crease lines of deep thought in her forehead--but she knew immediately, Laura had A Plan. 

“Whatever you are thinking Laura, unthink it,” Carmilla said, looking up briefly from her magazine and back down again. Laura crossed her arms. 

“Wow, Carm, good morning to you too.” 

The diner was still mostly empty, and everyone that was there was fed, so Carmilla was at the counter with Betty. Ell eyed Laura warily, but otherwise didn’t say anything. 

“So guys,” Laura announced, “I have a great idea.” 

“I _knew_ it,” Carmilla said, putting down her magazine. 

“Carmilla, as _endearing_ as you’re being,” Betty said, “I actually want to hear it.” 

“One condition,” Carmilla answered. She held out an arm. Laura rolled her eyes good naturedly and walked over, placing the arm across her shoulders and giving her a quick kiss. 

“May I continue?” 

“Please.” 

“So we have gotten a pretty good response online so far,” Laura said, “and I know, it’s only been like a day, but I really think there’s a chance for us to go viral here. So I thought it’d be cool to do some youtube videos!” 

“Like, challenges or whatever?” Betty asked. 

“Sure. But I thought we’d start simple first,” Laura said, “I thought it’d be cool if we, y’know, paired everyone up and had them answer questions and stuff. So our viewers can get to know everyone who works here! It’ll be great for business. Customers will get invested in us as _people.”_

Laura held up her purse. “So, I thought for fun I’d do it randomly. I put all your names on a scrap of paper and threw them in here. Who wants to get paired up first?” 

“I’ll do--” 

“Ell, how about you?” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow at Laura. 

“Um...okay…?” 

Laura unzipped the purse, closing her eyes. She reached a hand in, pulled it out, and uncrumpled the paper. 

“And...Danny.” 

_“Cupcake,”_ Carmilla groaned softly, and Laura ignored her. 

“Danny?” 

“Yep. The paper doesn’t lie.” 

Ell pursed her lips. “I want to pick for myself.” 

“Sure!” Laura held out the purse. Ell walked over, blindly reaching a hand in. 

“... _Danny.”_

“Twice,” Laura said, “you can’t get much more certain than that, right?” 

“Um, Laura, I don’t know--” 

“Betty, why don’t you get Danny right now while I get the laptop set up!” 

She looked at Carmilla when Laura skipped away to get everything ready. “Your girlfriend is kind of crazy, girl, no offense.” 

“None taken.” 

Ell stared awkwardly at Carmilla as Betty disappeared into the kitchen. “Carmilla,” Ell said evenly, “I am trying very hard to get over this--this _thing,_ you know, but Laura is making it kind of hard right now.” 

“I’m sorry, Cinnabon. I’m against it.” 

Ell turned around, shaking her head before sitting down at a booth. Laura walked out with Danny. 

“...So, you want to?” 

“I mean, sure, if Ell does.” 

“Great! Just wait over there with Ell and I’ll brief you guys on what to do.”

“Sure?” 

Laura gave Danny a light push. She sat down next to Ell, and they both looked at each other shyly before looking away. Laura rubbed her hands and got ready to follow them when Carmilla grabbed her arm. 

“Laura, are you seriously trying to play matchmaker to assuage your guilt?” She whispered. 

Laura frowned. “Nuh-uh. It was random. Ell picked Danny’s name.” 

“Oh, so if I look at those ‘scraps of paper’ they won’t _all_ have Danny’s name on them?” 

“...Just let me try this, okay? The worst thing that can happen is it won’t work!” 

“No, the worst thing that can happen is that you make Ell incredibly uncomfortable for no _good_ reason.” 

“It is a good reason,” Laura insisted, “you’ve tried your way for six years Carmilla. Pretending Ell was happy didn’t work. Now it’s my turn, and we are doing something about it!” 

She finished her whisper harshly, then turned and marched toward Danny and Ell’s table. 

“So,” Laura said, clapping her hands together, “this is easy. Basically I have this list of questions, and you guys ask each other things. I have the camera set up so...have fun guys!” 

Laura reached into her bag, placed down questions on the table between Ell and Danny, gave them both a thumbs up, and walked back to the counter. 

“So...what now?” Carmilla asked. 

“We hope it works.” 

“Wow, not even going to try and spy on them? I’m pleasantly surprised, Cupcake.” 

“Haha, yeah.” Laura considered Carmilla’s statement for a moment and added, “I’ll be hiding behind the counter if you need me.” 

“Wait what happened to--” 

“You can join me or not but I’m doing this!” 

Betty looked at Carmilla again. “Like I said. Crazy.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Trying to get Ell and Danny talk.” 

“Ridiculous.” 

“...We’re totally going to watch aren’t we?” 

“ _Hell yes.”_

They both hopped behind the counter with Laura, crouching and peering over the top. It was terrible cover for hiding. But Ell and Danny seemed to preoccupied to notice. 

“Okay,” Danny said, “the camera is set up so I guess we just start…? Introduce ourselves first?” 

Ell forced herself to smile. She stared at the camera like a deer in headlights. “Good morning internet. My name is Eloise Abbot. I work as a cashier and hostess for Silas Diner. Nice to meet all of you. And this is, um, Danny.” 

“Hey everyone! Danny Lawrence, head chef. I spend most of my time in the kitchen so it’s kind of nice to be out in the dining area and getting to introduce myself to you guys. Which Laura said we were apparently going to do as some sort of tag meme…?” 

“Let’s get this over with, I guess.” 

“God, they look awkward,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“Carm, _shhh!”_

“Question one,” Ell said, looking down at the paper Laura had given them, “Danny, what is your middle name?” 

“Oh. Um.” Danny mumbled. 

“What?” 

“...Sandra.” 

Ell looked more confused than uncomfortable for a moment, turning her body to Danny. “Wait, your name is Danny Sandra? Like--” 

“It was my dad’s favorite musical, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“Favorite musical?” 

“No, Ell,” Danny smiled. “I meant your middle name.” 

“Skylar.” 

“Cool.” 

They lapsed into silence again. Danny looked at the paper. 

“Alright, next item...what’s your favorite season?” 

“I like Fall. It’s not too hot--” 

“But not too cold to spend time outside?” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

“And it’s always great when the leaves change color.” 

“Yes.” 

Ell smiled softly, biting her lip and looking away from Danny. 

“Okay, this is boring,” Betty said, “they’re just really awkwardly asking each other questions. This plan wasn’t very well thought out, was it?” 

“It was!” Laura insisted, “it was _very_ well thought out, especially considering I only planned it last night.” 

“Laura, just accept that this isn’t--” 

“Are you my girlfriend or not?” 

Carmilla pouted and kept watching. 

“Okay,” Danny said, going to the next question, “what’s your favorite food? Okay, wait, I actually know this one I bet,” Danny said, grinning, “it’s pie, isn’t it?” 

Ell shrugged. “Well, I mean, I _do_ eat a lot.” 

“Ha, you’re practically always eating whatever Carmilla is baking.” 

“Yeah.” 

Danny frowned. “Ell, you know, you don’t needto act so uncomfortable.” 

“Who’s acting uncomfortable?” Ell asked, “I’m not. I am totally fine. Can’t we just get through these questions?” 

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Wow, that doesn’t exactly make a girl feel good, y’know.” 

“Laura, you see, you’re just making it _worse,”_ Carmilla said pointedly. 

“I am not giving up yet!” Laura answered. 

“...She kind of already let the cat out of the bag,” Betty pointed out, “she couldn’t give up even if she wanted to.” 

Ell shrugged her shoulders uselessly. “I don’t...I mean I’m not…” 

“I know you hate me and I’ve tried to back off and respect that, but can we at least agree to get along for _five minutes_ to help Laura?” 

Ell froze. 

“You...think I _hate_ you?” She said softly. Danny stared back. 

“Well yeah, what would you think if someone avoided you and barely looked you in the eye when they _did_ have to talk to you?” 

“I--I know but--why would I have any reason to _hate_ you?” 

Carmilla couldn’t believe it. 

They were talking. 

Actually, honest-to-God talking. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” 

“Danny, I don’t hate you! How could I possibly _hate_ you? You were my friend.” Ell scrambled to her feet. “If either of us have any reason to hate, it’d be you.” 

Danny got up, gently grabbing Ell’s wrist. “Ell, what are you even talking about?” 

Ell froze. She looked back at Danny, lip quivering, and Danny let go. 

“Uh... _Ell--”_

“It isn’t my fault but it _is_ my fault, okay?” Ell blurted out. 

Ell was still standing, but facing toward Danny. 

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Danny answered. 

“My dad and I got into a fight before he drove,” Ell said, “he got mad so he had something to drink to calm himself down and then he drove a car and they all _died._ That’s why you deserve to hate me. It’s why I don’t deserve to be your friend. It’s why I don’t talk to you.” 

Danny squinted at Ell, like she thought she heard her wrong. “Ell, you’ve seriously been living with that for six _years?_ That is such a stretch it isn’t even funny. Of course what happened wasn’t your fault.” 

“I made him mad and he drank--” 

“One can of beer,” Danny interrupted, “he was not even near the limit. He was not driving recklessly. The driver that hit them skid because the road was wet, Ell. Seriously. This was no one’s fault. It was just really, _really_ shitty luck.” 

Ell hugged herself. “That makes it _worse.”_

“Oh my God what’s happening right now Betty I’m still hiding!” Laura whispered. 

“ _Shh,_ Danny stood up and they’re still talking.” 

Danny had her hands shoved in her pockets, looking at Ell. “Why?” She asked softly. 

“Because--because--because then I can’t do _anything._ Because I couldn’t stop it from happening, but if I can blame _something,_ if I can blame _myself,_ then at least I can do something about it. I can punish myself. But if it’s no one’s fault? Then there’s _nothing_ I can do. Our parents died for no good reason, and I just have to accept it. That’s _hard,_ okay?” 

“So you ignore me.” 

“After I avoided you during the funeral I felt so _guilty_ about that too and then...you know, the longer I did it, the harder it was to talk to you again.” 

Danny frowned. “Ell, I don’t know if you realize this, but what you did _really_ hurt me.” 

Ell sniffed. She looked like a kicked puppy. “I..I did.” 

“You were the _only_ person who understood what I was going through. And you stayed near Vordenberg the entire time and would barely even look at me. You think you’re the only one that felt guilty, Ell? I thought you resented me for not being there when it happened. Because you were the one that had to be there for Tuck and Annie when I’m their _sister.”_

 _“_ Danny, of _course_ I don’t. I’m...I’m so sorry. But that wasn’t your fault, you had school--”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you blame yourself then.”

Ell’s mouth stayed open, and she finally answered, “I don’t know what I’m doing with myself anymore.” 

Danny gently pulled Ell into her arms for a hug. Ell sighed, resting her head on Danny’s shoulder wearily.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Carmilla said. Laura lifted her head. 

“What…? Oh my God I _knew it!”_ Laura jumped up. “In your face Carmilla! HAH!”

Ell and Danny startled, looking at the counter. “Why is Laura doing the Running Man…?”

“Because my plan _worked!”_

Ell’s hands curled into fists. “Your _plan?”_

Laura froze. “Uh, I mean, not that I knew anything about your history with Danny or anything like that--” 

Ell’s eyes narrowed. “Danny you should go back in the kitchen.”

“You sure--”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Danny looked at Laura warily before returning to the kitchen. Ell stared at Laura. 

“I do not care if your ‘plan’ worked or not. You had no right to do that. You have no right to--to insert yourself in my life like you’ve been a part of it. You are _leaving,_ Laura. Why are you getting so _invested?”_

Laura bit her lip. Ell looked at Carmilla. 

“You talked to her about me.” 

“Ell, I didn’t want Laura to do anything--” 

“But you talked to her about me.” 

Carmilla looked away guiltily. “Yes. I’m sorry.” 

Ell’s eyes flitted, quickly, to the kitchen door before she looked at Carmilla again. 

“I don’t like being mad at you,” Ell said, “but I think I’m going to need a day. Okay?” 

“Fine, I understand.” 

Ell leaned her arms on the counter, blowing out an exhausted breath. Laura looked at Carmilla. 

“I’m...going to go wait tables,” Betty said, walking past them. 

“Carmilla, please don’t be angry at me too.” 

It was her turn to breathe heavily, in through her nose, out through her mouth. Carmilla ran a hand through her hair. “I probably should be.” 

“I know but--” 

“-- _But,_ it felt pretty good to see Ell and Red actually start speaking again.” 

Laura smiled sheepishly. “So, we’re…?” 

“Please promise me this is the last time you do something like that.” 

“...Promise.” 

Carmilla hugged her. “I’ll see you after work,” she said softly, kissing Laura on the temple. She disappeared back into the kitchen. 

“Hey Red.” 

“Hey, Elvira,” Danny said, grinning as she drizzled syrup on a stack of pancakes. She turned around, smoothly dodging Carmilla. 

Carmilla grabbed her pie out of the oven, putting a slice on a plate and walking back out to Betty. 

“Danny seems pretty happy,” Carmilla remarked to her. 

“Well yeah, her and Ell were pretty close.” 

“They weren’t _that_ close--” 

“Dude, seriously, what the fuck are you smoking?” 

Carmilla blinked. “Dude, seriously, I hung out with Ell all the time and I didn’t see her hanging out with Danny that much.” 

“That’s because you didn’t live right next door. I did, remember? When you weren’t around Danny would bring the twins while their parents were at work.” 

Carmilla stared at her. “I...didn’t know that.” 

Betty shrugged. “Sorry.” 

She grabbed the pie, and left. Carmilla took a deep breath. “...Oh _fuck,_ Ell did have a point.” 

***

Carmilla could find Ell’s house with her eyes closed. 

It was the same house she’d lived in her entire life; the first time Carmilla had snuck out to see her in the middle of the night had been once when she was eight years old. Pitch black darkness, but she knew exactly how to get there--only to promptly be forced to go back home. When the Abbots realized how bad the yelling was they started letting her stay until morning. But muscle memory carried Carmilla‘s feet straight from her house to Ell’s without needing to even pause. 

She was where she expected her to be. Sitting on the porch, hands on her knees, looking up at the sky. Carmilla kicked a rock aside, sighing. 

“Hey, Cinnabon.” 

Ell looked up. It was hard to read her expression in the dark, but Carmilla could tell that she tilted her head slightly. 

“It’s one in the morning, Carmilla. What are you doing calling on me at one in the morning?” 

“Because I may not pay as much attention as you think,” Carmilla answered, walking over, “but I do know that when I’m upset, I smoke. When you’re upset, you can’t sleep.” 

Carmilla sat next to her, placing her package between them. “Here.” 

Ell opened the box. “...A pie?” 

“I came up with a recipe for Eloise Abbot pie, and then I never made it. Well, here you go.” 

“Thanks.” 

Carmilla swallowed. “Ell, listen, I’ve been thinking and I--” 

“I went to Danny’s house for dinner.” 

Carmilla blinked. “Uh, great.” 

“We talked. About our parents, about Danny’s brother and sister, what it was like having to live with my grandpa, the diner...you know, six years worth of talking in a couple of hours. It was…” Ell shrugged, “it just felt good to _talk,_ you know?” 

Carmilla sighed. “Yeah. And I’ve been a really shitty friend with that. Okay? You’re right. I had no idea how depressed you still were because of your parents. I had no idea how awful living with Vordenberg was for you. I saw all the warning signs of how unhappy you’ve been and I just brushed it off because hey, it’s Ell, she’s just shy and she doesn’t talk much. I was too wrapped up in my own shit to make sure you were okay and I always have been.” 

Ell stared at Carmilla. “It isn’t your fault.” 

“How is it not _my_ fault?” 

“Because I never told you, Carmilla. You’re not the only one that hates talking about _feelings,_ okay? Sure, I mentioned some stuff to you right after it happened, but you were so, so--I _liked_ that you didn’t make it a big deal. I liked that you were the only one in town that didn’t make little pitying noises when you saw me. That didn’t treat me like my entire world had ended. I wanted to keep smiling and be your nice, sweet best friend and pretend that nothing was wrong. Of course you didn’t know, Carmilla! I didn’t _let you.”_

She hugged her knees tighter. “And when it finally became too much for me to do, I blamed you for not knowing that I was lying.” 

Carmilla stared down at the porch step. “I should have noticed. I was your _best friend._ I am your best friend. How could I have missed it?” 

“Because I tried really, really hard to look okay for you. And maybe you wanted to believe it so you ignored things but really, who wouldn’t want to believe it? I even convinced myself sometimes.” 

Her hair fell like a curtain to hide her face and Carmilla was reminded of why, even though they seemed on the surface like opposites, Ell and Carmilla were actually so much alike; they were both guarded. Ell may have used a smile, and Carmilla a scowl, but both of them wore masks. 

“I’m still sorry,” Carmilla said softly. 

“I forgive you.” 

“So...why didn’t I know you and Danny used to hang out so much?” 

“We would play with her siblings.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Carmilla, you _despise_ children.” 

She couldn’t really argue with that. 

“Um…” Ell rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you forgive _me?”_

“For Laura? Ell, I can’t blame you for being madly in love with me. I curse my fantastic genetics.” 

Ell nodded. Carmilla had no idea what she and Danny had talked about, but whatever it was, it seemed to have had the effect of relieving pressure, like opening a dam or letting air out of a balloon. Ell was slumped over like she was exhausted; not necessarily _bad_ exhausted. Like she had been running a marathon and was finally able to rest. 

“How have you guys been…?” She asked tentatively. 

“Good,” Carmilla answered, deciding that this attempt at reconciliation didn’t mean Ell would want every detail. 

“You guys went on a real date before, yeah?” 

“Disaster.” 

“Ouch.” 

“I managed to pull a good move at the end though.” Carmilla relaxed slightly, telling Ell the story. Her brow was knit as she listened. 

“...You should take her to that place,” Ell said decidedly. 

“Right. The place. In the spot? By the thing?” 

Ell rolled her eyes. “No. That place we used to hang out in, you know? That place?” 

Carmilla’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, that would be romantic as fuck.” 

“I mean we live in a small southern town, you really got to let it work for you, not against you.” 

“Ell, you are a _genius._ That’s a great idea. Laura will be eating out of the palm of--” She paused. “Uh...sorry. You probably don’t want to hear me get all excited.” 

“I love you, Carmilla,” Ell answered, “it _sucks,_ but unfortunately it sucks when you’re unhappy too, so if the choice is both of us miserable or just me, I will choose option two every time...sorry it took me a few days to remember that.” 

She looked down at the pie. “By the way, this looks _amazing.”_

Carmilla took the offered way of ending the conversation. “Yeah, it does. Bite?” 

Ell grabbed a slice. Carmilla grabbed a slice. “Best friend bite?” 

“Totally.” 

They linked arms, smiling at each other for a moment before taking a bite. 

Pie and a best friend. At least when Laura was gone she’d have that. 


	20. Pie Baking

“So where exactly are you taking me tonight?”

Carmilla kept wiping down the table, totally silent.

“Carm, come on! After what you thought I would enjoy last time--”

“Nice try, Laura,” Carmilla answered, “but this is my shot at redemption. I can’t okay it with you first. That defeats the whole purpose.”

“Excuse me for being a little wary.” 

Carmilla looked at Laura pointedly. “Excuse me, but did you not tell me last night that I am the ‘best kisser you have ever dated?’” 

Laura’s face turned red. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean you’ll be the best at _other stuff--”_

“The _point_ is you have hardly been complaining so I don’t see the need to feel guilty. I have _more_ than made up for it.” 

“ _One hint.”_

“Fine. Wear something you won’t mind getting dirty.” 

“Carmilla come _on!_ Just--just at _least_ tell me if I get to see the tattoo?” 

She added in puppy dog eyes for good measure. Carmilla rolled her eyes affectionately. 

“See you later, sweetheart.” 

Carmilla leaned in and kissed Laura, walking back into the kitchen. Laura pouted, watching her walk away. 

“Stupid girlfriend,” Laura mumbled. Danny walked out, sitting down at the table nearest her.

“Hey Danny!” 

Laura waved.

“Oh, Hollis, hey!” 

There was something slightly off about seeing Danny sitting there, though at the moment Laura couldn’t really pinpoint exactly _what._

“What are you doing?” 

“Just waiting for Ell--and hey, speak of the devil! Hey, Ells.” 

Ell sat down across from Danny, purposefully not looking at Laura. 

Laura supposed she did deserve that. 

“Danny. Thank you for spending your break with me.” 

“Of course I am. We’ve got six years of catching up to do, remember?” 

It hit Laura; she had never seen Danny go on break. Whether she just didn’t do it, or she stayed in the kitchen, she didn’t know; but it was a very rare occurrence. 

“I almost forgot!” Ell exclaimed, “I got you this.” 

She produced a large bottle of Gatorade. “The blue kind. Do you still like blue the best?”

“ _Yes._ Still love blueberries?”

“Sure!”

Danny slid a carton to the middle of the table. Ell smiled at her before taking a handful. 

“Hey Perry,” Laura said when she walked out, “how are you?”

“Absolutely overwhelmed,” she said, eyes wide. “ _Look.”_

She shoved a phone in Laura’s face. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of twitter followers--”

“And YouTube subscribers! And tumblr followers! And most importantly, _orders.”_

 _“_ Um...I’m really sorry?”

“How am I going to fulfill all of these? There are too many! This is a restaurant, not a bakery. We are not equipped for this!”

“I don’t know. We bake overnight?”

“This is a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe we should just cancel the later orders--”

“Whoa, _whoa,”_ Ell turned toward her, “Perry, this is rule one of business! You never turn down orders!” 

“But how are we supposed to _fill_ them?” 

“We’ll talk to Carmilla,” Ell said soothingly, “I promise it will be fine. Just relax. We can handle it.”

“I...okay. I am going to go...clean something.”

“That’s the spirit Perry!” Laura exclaimed, watching her slink away back into the kitchen. As soon as Perry was out of sight Laura groaned, “can _anything_ go my way today?” 

“What’s not going your way?” Danny asked. 

“Carmilla refuses to tell me where she’s taking me today, and now Perry freaking out, and--and she has a _tattoo_ that she still won’t show me--” 

“ _Perry?”_

“No! Carmilla. Did you know she has one, by the way? And she will not tell me where!” 

“ _Oh._ Uh, yeah, she got one the same day I did--” 

“ _You what?”_

Ell flinched from Danny and Laura shouting their disbelief at the same time. “Um, we both got one when we were eighteen. I mean we would have sooner but like...we would have needed permission.” 

“But _you_ got one?” Laura said. 

Ell sighed. “Since you’re both going to never let this go until I show you, here.” 

She grabbed her sleeve, pulling it down to reveal her left shoulder blade. In neat, plain cursive scrawl, were the names _Rebecca Abbott, Booker Abbott, 1970-2010._

Laura felt her heart break looking at it. “Are...those your mom and dad?” 

Ell nodded silently. Danny got up, moving around to look at it. She reached out and tentatively traced a finger along the lettering. 

“I didn’t know you got this,” Danny said softly. Laura could see Ell’s cheeks just barely start to turn pink. 

“I, um...I didn’t get it for people to know,” she answered, “it was for me. Carmilla came to make sure I wouldn’t chicken out.” 

“It’s, I mean...it’s really nice.” 

She pulled her hand away, smiling sheepishly. 

“So you _do_ know what Carmilla’s tattoo is?” 

“Duh, everyone does,” Danny answered. 

“Unlike me, Carmilla loved showing off that she got it ‘cause it was big and it hurt,” Ell said, adjusting her sleeve back into place and popping a blueberry into her mouth as an excuse to stop talking. 

“Do you happen to remember what it is--” 

“Unlike you, I keep things secret if Carmilla asks me not to tell,” Ell said primly. 

“But she _didn’t_ ask you.” 

“Well she’s not telling _you,_ so she wouldn’t want _me_ to do it.” 

Ell was starting to look annoyed, and Laura had enough sense to turn away, resting her chin on the counter and pouting. 

“Aw, miss me that much already?” Carmilla teased on her way out of the kitchen. 

“We need to work on filling our online orders Carm!” Laura called out after her.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been trying to do that in between these orders. Taking forever though.”

“Could we use your kitchen?”

Carmilla stopped. “You want to bake all of it at my house?”

“It would be fun!” Laura insisted, “we can all bake together--”

“ _Together?_ I do not bake with people. I am the only one touching _my_ recipes.”

“Carmilla, you can’t do all of these on your own. There are way too many orders.” 

“But--” 

“We are going to your house tonight and helping you.” 

“ _Laura.”_

_“Carmilla.”_

They stared at each other from across the diner. Ell and Danny were in Laura’s line of sight, but they seemed to be ignoring them in favor of trying to throw blueberries in the air and catch them. Carmilla looked away first. 

_“Fine,”_ she groaned, “but what about our date?” 

“We can still have our date when we get this figured out. We have time, right?” 

Carmilla bit her lip for a moment. “...Yeah. I guess we still have time.” 

She walked closer. “Hey, Ell--” 

_“Victory!”_

Danny raised her arms in the air, chewing on a blueberry she had just caught in her mouth as Ell started to laugh. She noticed Carmilla and smiled sheepishly. 

“Um, yes?” 

“Meeting tonight. We’re baking. Be at my house around six.” 

“...Oh. Okay.” 

***

Laura was the first one to show up, unsurprisingly. Besides the fact that she needed to make sure Carmilla actually went through with her promise to let them help, Laura also kind of wanted to get their alone time in before the doorbell rang. 

“Pretend we aren’t here,” Carmilla said breathily. Laura, begrudgingly, extricated herself from Carmilla’s lap. 

“No, Carm, come on.”

“But this is _fun.”_

“Well now we need to _work._ Ell is helping. You like Ell, remember?” 

“Not as much as you,” Carmilla grumbled, “that’s what caused all that drama, remember?” 

Laura looked over her shoulder at Carmilla, smiling before walking down the hallway toward the door. When she opened it, her eyes widened. 

“Laura, hey.” Ell said, smiling widely. Carmilla walked in after her. 

“Hey--did you seriously bring _them?”_

“Nice to see you too, Carmilla,” Danny said dryly, holding Annie in her arms while Tucker clung to her leg. 

“Hi Carmilla!” Annie and Tucker shouted. 

“I thought we could use some extra help,” Ell explained, “so I brought Danny.”

“Ell, maybe I would have tolerated Danny here. But I am _not_ letting the Wonder Twins into my inner sanctum.”

“Well _I_ do not feel like third wheeling while you both make bedroom eyes at each other all night.”

Carmilla and Ell stared at each other until Carmilla backed down. “...Just keep the kids out of my stuff.” 

“Of course we will!” 

Ell immediately pulled them into the living room, sitting them in front of the TV and turning it on. 

“Harry Potter movie marathon is on ABC,” Danny explained, walking inside, “they love it.” 

“Oooh, you’re raising them right!” Laura said, raising a hand for a fist bump. As promised, Tucker and Annie were staring wide eyed at the screen. Ell gave them each a gentle pat on the head, turning to face the others. 

“Alright! Let’s bake!” 

Carmilla rolled up her sleeves. “Okay, we need some ground rules before we start,” she said, “first of all, _no one_ touches anything unless I tell them to. _Anything.”_

Danny, Ell, and Laura nodded. 

“You do exactly what I say. And no cutting corners. I taste everything. Now,” Carmilla reached into her pocket, pulling out her notepad. “Here are my recipes. You,” Carmilla ripped out one and handed it to Ell, “are going to be focusing on apple pie tonight. Red, you take blueberry, and Cupcake...you can make the cupcakes.” 

Laura grabbed it from Carmilla. “What will you do?” 

“I’ll work on decorating them I guess. And making sure none of you mess up.” 

“Well, I must have absorbed _some_ knowledge through you,” Ell answered, rolling up her sleeves, “let’s do this.”

They got to work. Laura looked at Carmilla’s recipe. Flour. She could measure flour. Laura got out a measuring cup and thrust her hand into the bag. 

“What are you doing?” 

Laura looked at Carmilla. “Um, pouring flour into the mixing bowl?” 

“You were about to just pour it into the bowl?” 

Laura blinked. “Um. Yes?” 

“You got to _weigh it_ first,” Carmilla said, gesturing toward the scale she kept on the kitchen counter. 

“But it calls for two cups. I scooped out two cups.” 

“And you need to make sure it’s 128 grams.” 

“But it’s two cups, and if two cups are 128 grams and I _clearly_ measured out two cups--” 

“Just do what Carmilla says Laura,” Ell interrupted, already using the scale to carefully measure out sugar, “this is why I never try to bake with her.” 

“Besides, it depends on how densely you packed it,” Carmilla added.

Laura frowned, and as soon as Ell was out of the way, she placed the cup on the scale. It measured out 138. 

“See? It’s fine.” 

“No, it’s four grams off.” 

“But what’s the difference!” 

“It’s the _difference_ between soft and chewy and dense and cakey.” 

“Oh my God you are such a _nerd,”_ Laura groaned, but did what Carmilla wanted, carefully adjusting the amount until the scale read the correct measurement. “That better?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

Carmilla paused before leaning in to give Laura a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“Kisses won’t make me find you less annoying about this,” Laura grumbled. 

“I disagree, and that blush of yours is telling me I’m right.” 

Laura pouted, turning from Carmilla and dumping the flour into the bowl. Carmilla went to check on how Ell and Danny were doing. 

“Rolling out pie dough is surprisingly cathartic,” Ell said, throwing the dough onto the counter after sprinkling a handful of flour. 

“Um, Ell, you kind of…” Danny shook her head. “Here.”

She reached out and swiped a smudge of flour off of her nose. 

“Thanks, Danny,” Ell said. Danny shrugged and went back to mixing. 

“Wait, wait, Red, what are you doing?” 

“Um, mixing the ingredients?” 

“Did you cream the butter and sugar together first before you added the eggs?” 

“Should I have?” 

Carmilla grabbed the bowl. “We need to dump this.” 

_“What?_ But they were all getting mixed together anyway!” 

Carmilla looked like she was trying not to get frustrated. “Guys,” Carmilla said, “do you want me to use my recipes, or not? You can’t tell me you want to use my recipes and then complain about how I bake.” 

“Look, I just don’t understand--” 

Carmilla finished dumping out the bowl, turning around with one hand on her hip. “When you cream the butter and the sugar it makes air pockets,” Carmilla explained, “and if you add the eggs first that doesn’t happen. So then the dough gets too dense.” 

Carmilla handed the bowl back to her. “If you want it to taste good, you have to do it _right._ ” 

Danny rolled her eyes, but grabbed the bowl. Carmilla looked at Laura. 

“What?” 

“You are being so _anal.”_

“Laura, what did you think? That my baking is good because my flour is secretly pixie dust? This is the process.” 

“Now I know why you ‘bake alone’,” Laura grumbled. 

Carmilla looked remorseful for a moment before she smiled. “Hey, babe, I’m sorry. This help?” 

She walked behind Laura, wrapping her arms around her waist while Laura tried to mix the cupcake batter. Laura swallowed. 

“Um, this is a little better...yeah.” 

Ell kneaded the pie dough a little harder. Danny frowned in her direction. 

“...Hey, Ell,” Danny said, “let me see your phone.” 

Ell looked at Danny suspiciously and handed it to her. Danny swiped through it until rock music started piping through the speakers, startling Laura and Carmilla out of their moment. 

“Mood music?” Ell asked, laughing. 

“Not for them,” Danny answered with a grin, “come on, help me slice these apples?” 

Years of working in the kitchen gave Danny decent knife skills. Ell tossed an apple to her and Danny made quick work of it before catching the next one. 

“Alright Carm, is this pie to your _liking?”_

Danny showed Carmilla the pie. 

“Yeah, put it in the oven,” Carmilla paused and added, “400 for an hour and rotate it halfway through, think you can manage that?” 

“Uh, sure--” 

“And the cupcakes, same thing, but set it to 350. Got that?” 

“I mean, okay, but--” 

Carmilla grabbed Laura’s hand. “Let’s go.” 

“Right _now?”_ Laura asked. 

“Ell, you and Danny got free reign of the house. Go crazy. Do whatever.” 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

Carmilla smiled. “Me and Laura are going for a walk. Unless you _want_ to watch us--” 

Ell turned red. “No no,” she answered, “Danny and I will be fine.” 

She looked at Danny, smiling nervously. Danny shrugged. “Alright, see you guys?” 

Laura blinked. “But Carmilla, shouldn’t we--” 

“Do you want a romantic evening or not?” 

“...Romantic evening.” 

“Then go before I change my mind.”

Laura waved at Danny and Ell quickly before letting Carmilla tug her out the door. 

***

“Okay, now open your eyes.” 

“Um, Carm, they’re open. You're kind of covering them?”

“Here.”

She uncovered her eyes. Laura gasped softly. “Oh _wow.”_

Carmilla smiled at her. “Like it?” 

A picnic blanket in the middle of a forest. A bottle of champagne. Fireflies creating little pinpricks of light. Laura smiled back at her. 

“Like it? I _love_ it. You did good Carm.”

Laura went to sit down and Carmilla took a brief moment to be proud of herself before joining her. She grabbed the bottle of champagne, uncorking it before filling their glasses. 

“I took a real risk leaving this stuff here, but it was worth the surprise,” Carmilla remarked, “even if there was a good chance some racoons were going to take it and have a wild night or something.” 

Laura took a sip. She laid her head on Carmilla’s shoulder and Carmilla’s hand rested on her hip, fingers tapping lightly against her. 

“...It’s quiet,” Laura said. 

“Other than the general sounds of nature, I guess it is.” 

Laura looked at her. “It’s never quiet in New York City,” she said, “there’s always cars no matter what time of night and sirens and things. This _is_ really silent to me. It’s weird. Not like…” Laura frowned a little in thought. “ _Bad_ weird. Nice. It’s nice.” 

“Then maybe you want to stop talking and enjoy the silence,” Carmilla answered, then smiled sheepishly when Laura pouted. “Sorry, sorry, it was too easy. But... I don’t know, I guess it’s interesting when you’re a tourist. It’s mostly just boring, believe me.” 

“You’re wrong,” Laura answered. Carmilla blinked. 

“What?” 

Laura looked at her. “The city isn’t great either. I mean, I didn’t hate it; it was _home_. But like...it’s always really loud, and you can barely see the stars at night, there’s smog everywhere...we don’t even have fireflies.” Laura shook her head. “I think you’re really lucky to live here. Silas has grown on me.” 

Carmilla’s grip on Laura tightened. “I don’t feel that lucky.” 

“Why not?” 

Carmilla’s mouth quirked to the side. She rested her chin on Laura’s shoulder. “I mentioned my parents are divorced.” 

“...Yeah, I think you did.” 

“They fought...pretty constantly. It sucked. So, you know...lot of bad memories associated here.” Carmilla shrugged. “I feel like I need a fresh start.” 

Laura bit her lip, considering it. “My mom died in a car crash too,” Laura said. 

“Uh...yeah, I remember when it happened. My mom and I brought Mrs. Cochrane a pie.” 

“I was in the car. I was _terrified_ of cars after that. For a really long time.” 

“Not to invalidate the tragedy of this, but I don’t really understand the point…” 

“The point is,” Laura said, “that eventually I had to accept that I couldn’t let one really bad experience in a car ruin driving for me forever. The car didn’t kill my mother. The driver did, you know? And...just because your parents made your life here miserable, that doesn’t mean _Silas_ has to make you miserable. Because _Silas,_ it’s a really nice place.” 

Carmilla didn’t answer at first; she kissed Laura’s temple. Laura mumbled, “just a thought.” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

They both sipped their champagne. 

“...To be honest I don’t know if I _really_ want to leave,” Carmilla admitted. Laura put her glass down. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I left once and failed miserably,” Carmilla said, “I tried to busk on the street for money and when the police finally found me I was sleeping under a shop awning smelling like I hadn’t bathed in a year. I hadn’t eaten anything for two days.” 

“Carm, you were sixteen--” 

“And I was about as skilled when I was sixteen as I am now.” 

“That isn’t true.”

Carmilla looked like she was about to disagree when Laura kissed her. 

“Carmilla Karnstein,” Laura breathed, “you are the most beautiful, the most talented, just--the most amazing woman I have met in a long time. You could do anything you ever wanted to. I mean that. But speaking from experience, it is way more fulfilling to mean something to one small town, than it does to be one face in a crowd of a thousand faces in Times Square.” 

Carmilla stared at Laura. “...Just kiss me, alright?” 

Laura was more than happy to. She didn’t know if what she said had any real effect on Carmilla, at all; but she felt the need to try anyway. Carmilla deserved to feel as important as Laura felt she was to her. 

Laura realized that the tips of Carmilla’s fingers had slid under her shirt and stopped. Laura smiled against Carmilla’s mouth. 

“Hey, you know we can call Danny and Ell,” Laura said softly, “so we can get the house to ourselves for the night.” 

Carmilla’s hands slid a little farther, making Laura’s shirt ride up just slightly. Laura’s arms wrapped around Carmilla’s waist to pull her closer; everything was going pretty fantastically, and she was sure Carmilla thought so, until she stopped. 

“...Maybe not yet, cutie.” 

“ _Carm,”_ Laura groaned, not even caring that she sounded like she was whining. 

“ _Laura,”_ Carmilla mimicked, smirking, “it’s so much fun to listen to you beg, though. Makes me want to wait just a _little_ longer.” 

Laura pouted. She pressed a kiss, long and slow, against the side of Carmilla’s neck. 

“You’re _sure?”_

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Carmilla said, practically panting. Laura sighed but stopped. She was a lady, afterall; Carmilla said no, and she was not going to keep pressuring her. Even if she really, _really_ wanted to try and convince her. 

Besides, kissing Carmilla in a beautiful forest with a bottle of champagne? Not exactly a terrible alternative.

 


	21. Thirsty

“Thirsty?” 

Laura shook her head. “I'm fine Betty, I already have a glass of water--”

“Not the kind of ‘thirsty’ I meant,” she interrupted, grabbing a bottle of cleaner and spraying the counter with it. “You have been staring at your girlfriend since you got here. It would be creepy if you weren't dating her; and it's _still_ kind of weird.” 

Laura tore her eyes away from Carmilla. “Excuse me for thinking my girlfriend is hot,” she mumbled. 

“Look, have all the sex you want, I don’t care,” Betty answered, scrubbing at a grease spot, “just keep the foreplay to a minimum in public, okay?” 

“I wish I was,” Laura mumbled, tracing a finger across the countertop. Betty raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“...Nothing.” 

It clicked in Betty’s head. “Oh my God, you guys haven’t…?”

“I am not telling you that!” Laura hissed. But Betty started laughing. 

“I'm sorry, I just--you both are so disgusting in public I assumed--”

“It is not a big deal! She’s just...old fashioned.”

Betty scoffed. “You ever thought of just, y’know, asking her?” 

“I can’t just _ask--”_

“What are _you_ doing here?” 

Laura turned around in her seat. Carmilla had her arms crossed tightly in front of her, staring at Mel, who looked wholly unimpressed. Ell was clutching the edge of her desk protectively. 

“Claws away, lady,” Mel said, closing the door behind her, “I’m off the clock right now. Nothing to do with Vordenberg.” She looked at Ell. “You don’t need to look so terrified.” 

“He’s not coming then…?” 

“I mean, I can’t tell you that for sure, but if he was planning to I haven’t heard about it.” 

Ell relaxed a little. “Then why are _you_ here?” 

Mel looked a little uncomfortable; it was like she didn’t know how to not be in professional mode. “I, uh...I was looking for Danny. She here?” 

As if on cue Danny walked out, wiping sweat off of her forehead. “Hey Ells, I’m taking my break now if you wanted--oh,” Danny stopped. “Mel. Hey.” 

“Danny.”

“Asshole,” Carmilla mumbled. Ell looked at her disapprovingly. 

“Don’t you have tables to wait on or something?” Mel asked. 

“Listen, you have some real nerve coming here--” 

“Carmilla,” Danny interrupted, “she’s my friend. Just...give us a second, come on.” 

Carmilla made an ‘I’m watching you’ motion at Mel, who rolled her eyes. 

“Bitch,” Mel said under her breath. Danny walked over to her. 

“Seriously Mel, I thought you said this place was a ‘shit hole.’ Your words.” 

“Yeah, but you work here. So here I am. Figured maybe we could get a cup of coffee? Catch up a little?” 

Danny looked suspicious. “...Took you awhile to decide you wanted to catch up. What gives?” 

Mel’s jaw clenched. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Look,” Mel said, “I...I couldn’t deal with Theo and Vordenberg anymore, alright?” 

She sat down at the nearest empty table. “Theo is an _asshole._ I mean, he’s a good lawyer I guess, but he’s an _asshole._ We’re staying at a hotel together while we work for Vordenberg too. It’s the only hotel in town and it fucking _sucks._ If I don’t talk to a decent human being I will go insane, and that leaves you, since I don’t know anyone else in this shit hole.” 

Mel leaned back in her chair. “...So that’s what gives. Coffee?” 

Danny raised an eyebrow, but sat down with Mel. 

“I’ve got a break, sure.” 

“I’ll...get the coffee,” Ell offered, raising her hand a little. She went to ask Carmilla for the coffee pot. 

“She does not deserve coffee.” 

“ _Carm.”_

She pouted. 

“If you give me the coffee pot I won’t tell Perry you’re not working so you can go hang out with Laura?” 

“...You wouldn’t have told her anyway, but fine.” 

Ell took the coffee from Carmilla, and then grabbed two cups, placing them back at the table with Mel and Danny. “Here you go guys.” 

“Hey, you’re Vordenberg’s kid, right?” 

“Um, grandkid.” 

“No offense, but he’s an asshole.” 

“Oh, believe me, I’m not offended. I know.” 

Mel smiled a little. “...Eloise, right?” 

“Eloise Abbott. Call me Ell though. I kind of don’t like Eloise…” 

“Wait, Ell Abbott?” Mel looked at Danny. “This was the girl you were always talking about, huh?” 

Slowly, Ell pulled out a chair and sat down with them. Danny started to turn red. 

“Danny mentioned me…?” 

Mel smirked at Danny. “I kept telling her that it was kind of weird to have a crush on a fifteen year old, but whatever--” 

“I never said I had a crush on her!” Danny interrupted, “besides, she had just turned sixteen, thank you...

“Oh, I’m sorry, you would just never shut up about her. _Especially_ when you’d come back from your weekend hometown visits. She still ‘absolutely amazing’ with your little brother and sister?” 

Ell smiled slightly. “Aw, that’s really sweet Danny.” 

“Well, we’re friends,” Danny mumbled, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Vordenberg never shuts up about you either,” Mel continued, “you’re a frequent topic of his frustrated ramblings. It’s...pretty hard to keep him on topic during meetings.” 

“Yeah, well,” Ell shrugged miserably, “It doesn’t really...surprise me.” 

“Hey,” Danny said sharply, “frustrating Vordenberg is a _good_ thing.” 

Ell stood up. “I’m going to go get us some pie.” 

Carmilla walked behind the counter, and Ell stood next to Laura. “Carm, can I have three slices of the special?” 

“We’re feeding her pie and she’s trying to shut our restaurant down.” 

“She is Danny’s _friend,_ and we are being nice to her. Okay?” 

“Oh, I get it,” Carmilla answered, lowering her voice, “trying to get her trust so we can figure out what Vordenberg is thinking? Seeing if you can get some information out of her?” 

“No.” 

“I can help. Do a little good cop, bad cop.” 

“...Just give me the pie.” 

“I’ll help you bring it over?” Laura offered. Ell didn’t argue, so Laura grabbed one slice from Carmilla. When they walked back to the table, Mel and Danny were in the middle of conversation. 

“Yeah, Sameera and I broke up awhile ago.” 

“That sucks.” 

“I’m over it. How about you? Break any hearts?” 

Danny shrugged. “Too busy and too few options.” 

“And you say _my_ life sucks--huh, thanks,” Mel looked up at Laura. “You look familiar.” 

“I’m here a lot.” 

“She’s dating my friend Carmilla,” Ell added, sitting down next to Danny, “she’s the one that made the pie. Carmilla, I mean.” 

“Oh, _her._ Is she the one trying to force choke me from the lunch counter?” 

“Carmilla always looks like that?” Ell answered. 

Mel took a cautious sniff, then a bite. She chewed it, swallowed, paused to consider the taste. 

“...Well shit, that’s good.” 

“I know, isn’t she great?” Laura said, unable to stop herself from bragging, “we started selling online and we’ve already got a lot of orders.” 

“Ell is handling the business end of it and Carmilla makes all the recipes,” Danny added. 

“And I’m...sort of in charge of online promotion.” 

“Huh. Really.” Mel looked at Ell. “Vordenberg gave me the impression that business was not your strong suit.” 

“Maybe because Ell just isn’t an asshole like him,” Danny grumbled. “She is doing a great job.” 

Ell nudged Danny with her shoulder affectionately. “Thanks. So...you can tell grandpa that we’re not closing anytime soon.” 

Mel nodded. “Look,” Mel got up, “Theo and I get paid whether he ends up owning this place or not. And the sooner we’re finished, the sooner I can return to my nice, comfortable apartment instead of a shitty hotel with substandard plumbing. So I’m all for Vordenberg giving up if that ends up being the faster way to finish this. Okay? Tell Morticia over there I said that.” 

She reached into her wallet. “Here’s some money for the coffee and the pie. Keep the change; no offense Lawrence, but you look like you could use it.” 

Danny took the offered twenty dollar bill. “You’re already leaving?” 

“Theo is expecting a ‘strategy’ meeting soon,” Mel answered, “and I need to wash the smell of grease out of my clothes. I’ll be back though. We have a _lot_ of catching up to do...and besides. It was good pie.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mel!” Ell said, waving at her retreating back. She looked at Danny and Laura. “Um. It was nice, right? I guess?” 

“She’s probably going back to Vordenberg telling him about how we totally saved the diner and he should stop bothering us,” Laura said, grinning, “you were awesome, Ell, talking to Mel and being all ‘you can run and tell THAT to Vordenberg!’” 

“Oh. I mean,” Ell twirled a fork in her fingers, “I didn’t do it to be mean or anything.” 

“You weren’t,” Danny assured her. She took another bite of her pie. 

“You know what this is a perfect time for?” Laura suggested. She took out her phone. “Let’s take a picture of the three of us with the pie for our twitter and our tumblr!” 

Ell looked at Laura dryly. “...How about you take one of me and Danny?” 

Laura’s smile faltered a little. “Just you and Danny. Right.” 

Once again, Laura supposed she deserved that. She held up the phone. Ell leaned in a little and Danny grinned, putting an arm around Ell’s waist to pull her closer. “Say ‘apple pie!’” 

Danny and Ell started cracking up, and Laura smiled as she snapped the photo. She posted it onto tumblr with the caption: 

_Carmilla’s pies make everyone happy! :D_

***

She felt a little bad for Carmilla. She was working until after closing trying to fill orders--then going home and baking in her own kitchen too. Laura helped, packaging the food when it was done baking, and it turned into a pyramid of boxed pies and cupcakes stacked against the wall in the living room. 

It was all very disorganized, but they were trying their best. And so far it was working. 

“Hey Laura,” Carmilla said, collapsing onto the couch next to her, “how did we end up being the most retweeted post from the diner’s twitter account?” 

She showed Laura her phone. 

“Because we are adorable?”

“They’re calling us ‘hollstein.’ Should have never let you take that photo…” 

Laura couldn’t help but smile a little at it. Carmilla had baked a little cupcake in the shape of a heart; how could she _not_ take a selfie of her and Carmilla with it?

“You saw me posting it; you could have told me no,” Laura pointed out. 

“Ah, but then I wouldn’t get brownie points for letting you do it,” Carmilla pointed out, leaning in to kiss Laura softly. 

“Oh, really, is that why?” 

“Yeah. Did it work?” 

Laura smiled, one hand curling around Carmilla’s waist to pull her closer, the other cupping the back of her head. “Maybe a little?” 

“Excellent.”

They kept kissing and Laura shifted, pushing Carmilla onto her back; Carmilla did her part to ensure their lips were never apart throughout all of Laura's awkward maneuvering. Laura’s hands settled near Carmilla’s face, smoothing hair back away from her eyes. 

“...You have no idea how nice the view is from here,” Laura remarked. 

Carmilla turned her head to kiss the back of one of Laura's hands. “Not as good as it is from here,” she replied.

Laura grinned. She nuzzled her face into the side of her girlfriend’s neck as her hands wandered down, running across Carmilla’s chest. Carmilla shifted a little beneath Laura, arching into the touch of her hands. Laura’s fingers started to play at the top button of Carmilla’s shirt. 

“Can I…?” Laura asked breathlessly. Carmilla bit her lip. 

“Uh...I don’t know. I kind of like you being in suspense Cupcake.” 

She tried to say it casually, but Laura saw how she couldn’t look at her. And she knew pressuring someone was _always_ wrong, like _always,_ but Laura just couldn’t help but remember Betty--

“Is there something wrong with me?” Laura blurted out. She covered her mouth and Carmilla scooted back, so she was sitting up. 

“Wait, _what?”_

“No, no wait--that’s awful, I don’t mean I actually think you think--I would just really, _really_ like to sleep with you sometime in the near future, okay?” 

Carmilla’s mouth opened and closed, resembling a gaping fish, entire face going red. Laura’s skin felt like it was reaching roughly the same shade. “I--I mean only if you are okay with it,” Laura finished weakly. 

Carmilla blinked. Looked like she was going to respond, only to reconsider. Ran a hand through her disheveled hair. 

“...Carm, I’m sorry, I sound like such a horny teenager right now--” 

“Believe me, you’re not the only person here that feels like one.” 

It was Laura’s turn to look surprised. “Wait, so are you saying this _is_ something you might…?” 

“Jesus, Laura, of _course_ I want to. It’s just a little...overwhelming to have a gorgeous woman practically begging me to rip off her clothes and take her on my couch.” 

“Well, when you put it _that_ way...um, I kind of envisioned moving to your bed, in my defense.” 

Carmilla smirked. “Ah, so you have _envisioned_ this?” 

“It--well--maybe it crossed my mind a _couple_ of times--”

“Mm-hm, sure, only a couple.” 

Laura was grateful for Carmilla laughing it off; it put Laura at ease, somewhat. “So...then would you maybe…? You know, in the future.”

Carmilla looked nervous again. “Look Laura, it isn’t that I don't want to. I _do._ I just…” She mumbled something that, even with their close proximity, Laura could not make out. 

“What?” 

“I said I kind of...it has been awhile.” 

Laura tilted her head. “I mean, it's been awhile for me too. It isn’t a big deal--”

“Awhile as in _ever.”_

It was Laura's turn to blink. 

Carmilla looked vaguely terrified. Or embarrassed. Or some combination thereof. 

“...Wait, that's it?” 

“Look I'm sorry for not telling you--”

“Don't apologize,” Laura answered. “I thought it was going to be that you weren’t into me or something. This is fine.” 

Carmilla’s brow furrowed. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m still a virgin…?” 

Laura shrugged. “Carm, everyone is at some point,” Laura sat up. “I mean, I guess I was a little surprised for a split second because you are like, literally the sexiest human being ever when you want to be, but it actually isn’t that surprising considering how few opportunities you’ve probably had.” 

In fact, thinking about it, Laura wasn’t sure what she had thought. Vaguely she had always kind of assumed maybe she wasn’t the first fling Carmilla had ever had. 

Carmilla frowned a little. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“What?” 

“‘Not that surprising?’ I could have lost my virginity whenever I wanted, thank you.” 

“Well, clearly Ell would have been willing,” Laura answered dryly. 

Carmilla wrinkled her nose. “Okay, this is a context I do not want to mention her in.” 

“Sorry. Look, the _point_ is,” Laura brushed her fingers gently across Carmilla's cheek, “that I am honored that you like me enough to consider me for your first experience. And if you don't want to? I understand. It's a big deal and you want to save it for someone that’s going to be around for more than a summer.”

“You are being...way more articulate than I thought you would be.” 

“I was into a _lot_ of feminist stuff in college. Plus, I’m studying to be a doctor. I can’t be judgemental about what people decide to do or not do with their bodies unless, you know, it is literally killing them.” 

Laura leaned in to place a soft kiss against Carmilla’s forehead. “Feel a little bit better about this?” 

Carmilla pulled Laura back when she tried to pull away, kissing her firmly on the mouth. “Laura, I would never regret doing this with you, whether you’re leaving or not.” 

“Good, because I would never regret it either. But hey,” Laura held up her hands. “I promise I will not bring it up again. This is one hundred percent up to you. Promise.” 

A warm smile spread across Carmilla’s face. Not a smirk, or a shit eating grin; a real, actual smile. It was absolutely lovely and Laura made a note to herself to try and get Carmilla to do that more often. 

“C’mere,” Carmilla said, pulling Laura back down and tucking Laura’s head under her chin. 

“Oh my God, you want to cuddle,” Laura breathed, “Carmilla Karnstein wants to _cuddle.”_

“ _Shut up._ See, this makes it harder to come around on the whole ‘sex with you’ thing.”

Laura thought about replying with some sort of smart comeback, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Her girlfriend was just too cute. “...And hey, just so you know,” Laura said, “if you’re worried about, like, disappointing me or something...I just care that it’s you. You know that, right? You’re really all I need for it to be perfect.” 

Carmilla smiled again. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t need to. She merely wrapped her arms around her, snuggling Laura tightly against her chest and kissing the top of her head. 

“Nap,” Carmilla stated. 

“God, that sounds fantastic. Just...wake me up before midnight.” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Laura closed her eyes. Carmilla leaned her head back, looking up at the ceiling. After a moment of hearing Laura breathing against her, Carmilla frowned. 

“Well, _shit.”_

***

It had been a while since Carmilla and Ell just sat down together and talked. That late night conversation on her porch, Carmilla did not count; but this felt like the way they had been before. Just two friends enjoying a break together, eating pie, while Laura was off driving to another doctor’s appointment. 

“Hey Carm?” 

“Yeah?” 

Carmilla was picking at her pie with her fork, moving chunks of strawberry around the plate. Ell tilted her head. 

“You’re not eating your pie,” Ell said, “and it’s _your pie._ For you to not be basking in the glory of your own talent something must be seriously wrong.” 

“I’m fine,” Carmilla answered immediately, “just...thinking about things.” 

“Laura related things?” 

Carmilla bit her lip. “I’m...trying not to rub it in your face, Cinnabon,” she answered, “I doubt you want to hear me talk about my girlfriend.” 

Ell seemed to struggle with herself over an answer before sighing and answering, “no, but if something with Laura is bothering you as the best friend I need to do _something.”_

It was a weird dynamic between them now; Ell had always been Carmilla’s confidante. She told her everything, or at least everything eventually, which was more than she could say for everyone else in her life. Now Carmilla carefully weighed everything she said, their momentary fallout causing her to become very keenly aware of how much giving and taking there really was in their friendship. 

Which was sad, that Carmilla had chosen _now_ to finally pay attention to Ell’s feelings, but it was better late than never. 

So Carmilla looked at Ell carefully, and saw the sincerity, not obligatory politeness. 

“...Laura is amazing and I have never felt this way about anyone before,” Carmilla admitted. Ell blinked. 

“I’m really sorry? But I thought you already _knew_ that.” 

“No, Ell, I mean I think I’m falling for her.” 

“Oh. _Oh._ You mean…?” 

“I should have never said anything,” Carmilla groaned. She closed her eyes, holding out her fork. “Just end my misery right now, please.” 

“I’m not going to stab you, we need you to keep baking pies,” Ell answered, gently pushing back Carmilla’s hand. “And Carmilla, falling in love is generally a _pleasant_ feeling. Maybe you should enjoy it instead of freaking out.” 

Carmilla opened her eyes. It was impossible to ignore the obvious experience Ell had. 

“Yeah, it’d be great, if this had any possibility of being long term,” Carmilla answered, “this isn’t pleasant, it is tragic.” 

Ell gently bit her lip. “...It does feel tragic. But I don’t think--it isn’t really something you can _regret.”_ She sighed. “No matter how much you wish you could say you did.” 

They looked at each other uncomfortably. Carmilla cleared her throat. “...Hey, what did you and Red do while Laura and I were out the other night?” 

Ell perked up, clearly grateful for the way to end an awkward conversation. 

“Oh! Well, we finished baking, obviously. Then Tucker and Annie wouldn’t leave because it was their favorite scene in _Chamber of Secrets--_ they both really love Dobby?--so Danny and I had to practically sprint home carrying them when it went to commercial so they wouldn’t miss it. We got hungry so I ordered a pizza after Danny put the twins to bed. And we finished watching _Prisoner of Azkaban.”_

“Geez, when did you get home?” 

“I didn’t go home.” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “You slept at Danny’s house?” 

“Sure?” 

Carmilla smirked. “Wow, bravo Cinnabon,” she said, “Laura hasn’t even spent the night with me yet.” 

Ell started to turn red. “What? No! I slept on the couch and Danny slept in her room. I mean, she offered--” 

“She _did--”_

“To sleep on the couch!” Ell exclaimed, voice rising in pitch, “she offered to sleep on the _couch_ so that I could sleep in her _bed._ Which, like, really sweet, but she has so much on her plate already, the least I can do is not make her lose sleep…” She trailed off. “Things with her have felt weird.” 

The statement hung in the air, and Carmilla felt that the least she could do in return for Ell having to listen to Carmilla’s problems was, well, to listen to Ell. 

“You guys have seemed fine to me.” 

“It isn’t _bad_ weird, like, I-can’t-act-right-around-you weird,” Ell clarified, “it’s just like...we hang out and we’re friends now, I guess? But this is _Danny.”_

“And?” 

“She’s three years older than me. She used to...to call me ‘kid’, and mess my hair up to make me mad, and watch me when our parents were out. And when we stopped talking I was sixteen, and she was a freshman in college, so the age difference was still kind of significant? But now…” Ell gestured vaguely. “She’s twenty-five, and I’m twenty-two, and suddenly we’re equals. It’s...strange?” 

Ell pinched her sleeve between forefinger and thumb, fiddling with the fabric. Carmilla smirked. 

“So you’re not gonna replace me with Danny then?” 

Ell smiled softly. “Carm, you are irreplaceable, trust me...a jerk, but irreplaceable.”

There was a soft _ding_ as Laura entered the restaurant. Carmilla turned back and saw her. 

“Cinnabon--” 

“Go ahead,” Ell interrupted, “I have to go back to work anyway.” 

“Thanks,” Carmilla answered, getting up. “I mean it. Thanks.” 

Ell smiled back at her. Carmilla went to Laura. 

“Hey, Cupcake.” 

“Carm, hey.” Laura kissed her quickly. 

“How’d the appointment go?” 

“Annoying,” Laura answered, “I hate driving for almost an hour just for Gran to get a checkup.” 

She was wearing a denim jacket, taking it over and draping it over the back of a chair, not looking at Carmilla. “I barely needed to do it in the city, I could use ubers, the subway, taxi cabs; it’s so _weird_ now to have to drive so much. Although,” Laura looked back up, “I actually wouldn’t mind if you showed me how to use your motor--Carm?” 

She wasn’t standing behind her anymore. Laura looked to her right; she wasn’t grabbing anything from the counter. But then she looked to the left. No wonder Carmilla wasn’t standing next to her anymore. 

She was too busy standing with Ell, glaring daggers at Vordenberg. 


	22. Temporary

Ell was staring at Vordenberg, face as white as a sheet. It was kind of remarkable how quickly Carmilla had rushed to her side. One second she was right behind Laura, but now she was at the front, staring at Vordenberg. 

"Eloise. Eloise's friend. How are both of you?" 

"Listen, Vordendouche--" Carmilla growled. Ell held up a hand. 

"Carm, please," she said, "don't." 

Carmilla bit her tongue. Ell stared at her grandfather before asking, softly, "why are you here?" 

"Is it a crime to want to see my own granddaughter?" 

"Don't pretend choosing to come _here_ to do it is a coincidence, Grandpa." 

Laura saw that Danny was watching through the small window that looked into the kitchen. After a moment, she walked out, throwing off her apron. 

"Hey, Ell, you okay?" Danny asked. Ell swallowed. 

"I want to talk to him myself," Ell answered, "it's okay." 

Danny frowned. 

Carmilla paced back and forth behind her friend like a cat, ready to pounce on Vordenberg the moment Ell decided she wanted him gone. Danny made her presence more known, standing next to Ell, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

"I came here," Vordenberg answered, "because you have avoided all of my phonecalls." 

"So you follow her to her job like a stalker so she can't get away from you?" Danny interrupted. Ell looked at her. Danny cleared her throat. "Sorry, Ell. Sorry." 

"All I am asking is for you to hear me out," Vordenberg answered.

"I don't care what you say. There is nothing you can tell me that will make me want you to take this diner away from Perry and LaFontaine. Nothing. Okay?" 

"I'm not here to do that, Eloise." 

Ell's eyes widened. "...Then what the Hell are you here for?" 

Vordenberg put his hands behind his back, clearing his throat. "Eloise, we have had our differences. You know I haven't always been thrilled about your decisions. Your...inclinations. But I have always wanted what was best for you--" 

"It is not encouraging to hear," Ell said, "that you still refer to me being gay as my 'inclination.'" She added bitterly, "although I guess it's better than calling it a 'phase.'"

"What was I supposed to think?" Vordenberg continued, "you've still never had a girlfriend, not even that Carmilla girl, and you certainly were close enough--" 

Ell bit her lip. Carmilla leaned back against the wall, still watching. Danny reached a finger out, hooking it in one of the belt loops of Ell's jeans to pull her closer, until they were hip to hip. Ell looked at Danny for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Vordenberg raised an eyebrow. 

"--Although maybe I spoke too soon," he finished. 

"Danny and I--no." 

Danny's mouth was a flat, even line, eyebrows knitting together. "But it doesn't matter if we were or not," Danny continued, "telling her that her feelings don't count because she doesn't have a girlfriend still sucks." 

Ell nodded curtly, starting to warm up to Danny helping her. "Right. Exactly.” 

“Eloise, I did not come here to argue. I came...to tell you that I am _proud.”_

Ell’s jaw dropped. Her entire demeanor changed; only a moment before she was tense and angry. Now her shoulders fell, eyes softening, confusion spreading across her face. 

“You...you’re _proud?”_

Vordenberg nodded curtly. “Mel mentioned your involvement in the diner’s new business venture.” 

“Fucking Mel,” Danny swore under her breath. 

“Yes. Yes, I have been helping with that.” 

“My darling little girl,” Vordenberg walked around so there was no barrier between him and Ell; save for Danny, of course, who still held Ell’s belt loop protectively. “Your mother and I understood that you weren’t as business inclined as we would have liked. I suppose you were more like your father that way--” 

Ell frowned again at the mention of her father. 

“--But my dear, when Mel mentioned that--when she mentioned how you are apparently handling the business details of running this--do you realize how much money your parents invested in this diner? It was like throwing money down a drain, quite honestly. I kept telling Rebecca she would never see her money back. And now _you’ve_ shown that you could accomplish something even I did not think was possible.” 

“It’s--it wasn’t even my idea--” 

“ _Your_ idea? Ha! Eloise, an idea is just an idea. It takes a _Vordenberg_ to make it anything worth a damn. And you have proven to be quite the Vordenberg, young lady.” He put his hand on Ell’s shoulder. “You have finally become the young woman I always thought you could be--what your mother wanted you to be. I am _proud.”_

Ell broke away from Danny, letting Vordenberg wrap his arms around her for a full hug. “Thank you,” Ell said, his suit muffling her voice, “that...that means a lot to me, Grandpa.” 

“I would hope my opinion would,” he answered. He held Ell at arm’s length. “Would you like to at least attempt mending fences?” 

“Oh my God, of course.” 

“Wonderful! Well,” he looked around the diner, “I know I am unfortunately not welcome here, so perhaps we should agree to meet--” 

“No, you’re fine,” Ell answered, “sit in the corner and I’ll meet you there. I don’t want to wait.” 

She hugged him again, then watched him walk away. Carmilla went to Ell, balling her fists. 

“What the frilly Hell are you doing?” 

“Saving my relationship with my grandfather.” 

“I’m calling a meeting.” 

“A meeting…?” 

She grabbed Ell, pulling her to a table--Laura’s table. Ell sat down. Danny shoved her hands in her pockets and followed Carmilla. 

“Laura, tell Ell that Vordenberg is bad news.” 

Laura bit her lip, looking at Ell. “Um...I don’t know him. If Ell wants to try and start talking to him again that’s up to her.” 

“See? Even Laura knows who I talk to isn’t any of her business!” 

“Ell, you’ve told me about Vordenberg,” Danny and Carmilla said at the same time. They looked at each other and frowned. 

“...He was a dick to you,” Carmilla continued. “He kept trying to set you up with his business friends’ _sons,_ he constantly told you that you were a piece of shit--” 

“Grandpa never called me _that._ ” 

“I’m sorry, he just let you know you were the family disappointment,” Carmilla answered. “He didn't treat you right and he does not deserve you. I didn't hear an ‘I'm sorry’ anywhere in your conversation--”

“Well maybe I don't _give a shit_ what you both heard!” Ell snapped. 

Laura scooted her chair away slightly. Ell turned red and bit her lip. 

“I…like that you both are looking out for me,” Ell continued, “I know you care. I get it. But this is my _family._ And he said he was proud. Do you realize how huge that is for him? If I can have a family again, I want to at least try.” 

Betty walked up to the table. “Um, guys, Vorden--”

“He's fine Betty; you can serve him. _You guys_ should go back to work.” 

Danny and Carmilla shuffled off begrudgingly. 

“Um...Ell?” 

“Yes?” 

Laura shrugged. “I think it's great that your grandfather wants to fix things?” She offered. Ell tilted her head, then nodded. 

“Thank you for that, Laura,” Ell said, with surprising sincerity. Laura smiled hesitantly. 

“‘Course.” 

“...I’m going to go talk to Grandpa,” Ell said, and stood up, “oh, and Laura?” 

“Yes?” 

Ell bit her lip. “You might...want to talk to Carmilla.” 

Laura frowned. “Wait, about wha--” 

Ell was ignoring her, walking away to go talk to Vordenberg. Laura slumped down in her seat, crossing her arms. Carmilla joined Laura after a moment, copying her posture across the table. 

“Hey, Carm. Aren’t you working?” 

“No one is here and I’m trying to show restraint toward Vordenberg for Ell’s sake. If I serve him I _will_ spit in his coffee.” 

Laura wrinkled her nose. “Ew.” 

“He deserves it! I mean I am apparently not the most _observant_ friend, but even I knew how Vordenberg treats her like shit. He just,” Carmilla scrunched her fingers in front of her, “thinks that it’s his job to try and force Ell to become his little corporate lackey.” 

Laura wanted to say something, but she also didn’t want to start an argument; she didn’t know Vordenberg, and she’d only seen him talk to Ell once. He was condescending, but no more than any other old man that was stuck in the same mindset of their youth. Which was no excuse for bad behavior--but who could blame Ell for wanting to keep her only family in her life? 

“Do you want to... _not_ talk about it?” Laura suggested. 

Carmilla smiled. “You know me so well.” 

“Good,” Laura answered, leaning in with her elbows on the table, “because I was wondering what you were doing after work?” 

“I had ‘quality time with Laura’ penciled in, don't worry--”

“Don't go home.” 

Carmilla frowned. “Why?” 

“Just trust me, okay?” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. 

Laura grinned. 

“...You are really lucky you're cute.” 

“I know,” Laura answered smugly. 

***

Carmilla wasn’t happy about it, but she had to share her kitchen with Danny. 

There was just no way around it anymore. Orders were pouring in, and Carmilla may have made the best pies in the world, but no amount of skill made it possible to clone herself so she could do more things at once. She needed help; and Danny had been working as a cook for six years, so the logical choice was her. 

Or at least that was how Ell phrased it. 

“You are going to cook with Danny. I already talked to Perry and she thought it was a _great_ idea.” 

“I did not agree to this!” 

“Carm, you need help,” Ell answered, “this is your help. Danny has really good knife skills and everything. And she can follow a recipe,” Ell smiled at Danny, “right?” 

Danny smiled back, though she looked as awkward about the agreement as Carmilla. “Sure, I can.” 

“And of course,” Ell continued, “Perry agreed that since Danny will be doing a lot of overtime she will be happy to give Danny a commensurate raise.” 

Danny’s eyes widened. “Wait, I’m getting a raise? When did this happen?” 

“This morning after Grandpa left I talked to Perry. You get a raise.” 

Danny looked shocked into silence. “...Uh, Ells, thanks.” 

Ell raised her shoulders a little. “You deserve it Danny. I mean it.” 

Danny, still somewhat shocked, said, “thanks, Ells.” 

Carmilla raised her eyebrows. So that was why Ell was so adamant that Danny help.

“Fine Cinnabon, Red can be my sous chef.” 

Ell clapped her hands delightedly, left, and Carmilla got to work.

She never got along well with Danny. Not _badly,_ per say, but they could not have been less alike in personality. And Carmilla could admit to herself that there was a hint of jealousy there, too, in high school; Danny was the closest any of them got to getting out. In fact she _did_ get out. For a semester, at least. Until Silas pulled her back in like quicksand. 

“Alright Red, I need you to slice some apples for me,” Carmilla said. 

“Right.” 

Carmilla got to work on the dough. There was a hard, staccato rapping, and she looked up from her work. Danny was chopping the apples as if they were personally responsible for murdering her parents. 

“Whoa, Danny, what did they do to you?” 

Her back was turned to Carmilla, and she stopped, shoulders dropping slightly. “...Sorry, I’ll try and not be so loud.” 

She turned to get more apples, presumably, and Carmilla saw how Danny’s brow was furrowed as she frowned heavily. Carmilla squinted. 

“Look, I usually don’t care about what’s going on with you--other than _the incident_ which I only did for Laura--but Ell likes you, so I’m obligated to ask what’s wrong.”

Danny didn't answer.

“Come on, you should be happy. Ell got you a raise.” 

“She shouldn't have done that.” 

“So you don't want more money…?”

“I don't need any favors. I don't need anyone deciding they need to talk to Perry for me because I'm so _desperate.”_

Carmilla looked confused for a moment; then she started to laugh. 

“Is that seriously what this is? An ego thing?” Carmilla kept kneading her dough as she talked. “Red, if I recall you gave me a bear hug when I sent Laura over with that pie. This isn't any different.” 

“It _is.”_

 _“_ How, exactly?” 

“Because--because--” Danny finished weakly, as she gathered up more apples, “you're not _Ell._ ” 

She blushed, turning around quickly to hide her face. Carmilla debated whether or not she should press the issue and decided against it. 

Her phone vibrated. 

_Carm are you alone?_

“Alright Lawrence, I'm kicking you out,” Carmilla said. 

“But I thought we were--” 

“Go home,” Carmilla answered, “Ell is watching the twins, right? Spend some time with the three of them.” 

Danny frowned. “...You just want to get laid, don't you?” 

“And you don't Miss ‘Ell must see me as the provider?’” 

Danny narrowed her eyes, but grabbed her things and walked out the back. 

Carmilla strode to the front door. 

“Hey Cupcake,” Carmilla said, opening the door, “uh...what's in the bags…?” 

Laura hefted up the two large bags, walking inside and putting them on the counter. She turned around. 

“So, confession,” Laura said, “Gran got done with her appointment way faster than I said, but I needed to grab some things.” 

“Okay, what were these ‘things?’” 

Laura looked nervous. “Um. Well I was thinking about last night, what we were talking about…” 

Carmilla’s eyebrows shot up. Laura registered her look and backtracked hastily. 

“No! I didn't--this isn't a--just look okay?” 

Laura started rifling through the bags. She pulled out speakers, a bottle of what looked like tequila, shot glasses, and what looked like a...disco ball machine? 

“You've shown me all of these wonderful things about Silas.” Laura said, “I thought you should have some new experiences too.” 

She walked toward the other side of the diner, flipping off the lights. Carmilla grit her teeth. 

“Jesus Cupcake, you know I don't like the--”

Suddenly lights of different colors made the room glow dimly. Laura grinned. 

“Ever been clubbing on a Friday night?” 

“Uh...no. Have _you?_ ”

“...I mean, once or twice--” 

“Because I’m pretty sure disco balls are not in style anymore.” 

Laura pouted. “Would it kill you to say ‘wow Laura, this is really nice and _thoughtful_ of you?’” 

Carmilla couldn’t help laughing. “You know that’s not exactly my style, but I’ll humor you?” 

Laura rubbed her hands together, smiling again. “Then welcome to Club Silas!” 

Laura pressed a few buttons on her phone, making music start to pump through the Bluetooth speakers. 

“Is that _Kesha?”_ Carmilla shouted over the music. 

“This is the kind of music that plays! Carmilla,” Laura held out her hand, “dance with me?” 

It was absolutely ridiculous. But Carmilla surprised even herself when she answered, “sure.” 

She took her hand and Laura pulled her in. And the music was _awful_ and loud, but it was worth it to watch Laura. 

“Cupcake, you are a terrible dancer.” 

“You're not great either!” 

“Don't get so mad, I think it's cute.” 

Laura was flailing more than she was dancing. Carmilla swayed her hips to the music and not much else. 

“Fine, there are other stuff to do at a club.” 

“Like drink?” 

“Exactly!” 

“You know, that's another thing I've never done,” Carmilla said, “flirt with the hot bartender.”

A grin spread across Laura’s face. 

“Well, let’s do that then.” She walked over to the counter, trying to hop over smoothly. She failed, in fact pretty badly, and Carmilla was about to see if she was okay when Laura popped back up. “Sorry, I’m fine!” 

She smoothed out her hair and the wrinkles in her clothes. She cleared her throat, then smiled, leaning in with her elbows on the counter. 

“So, what can I get you?” 

Carmilla stifled a laugh. “Hey, Cutie,” Carmilla said, leaning in toward Laura, “can I buy you a drink?” 

Laura hummed. “I don’t know, I’m not really supposed to drink on the job.” 

“Come on. Live a little.” 

“Hm,” Laura tapped her chin in thought, “I mean, I guess _one_ shot wouldn’t kill me.” 

“Beautiful,” Carmilla answered, as Laura filled their glasses, “so when do you get off work?” 

“What?” Laura asked; they were right near the speakers. 

“When do you get off work?” Carmilla repeated, louder this time. Laura smiled. 

“Oh, not that long. Just a few minutes.” 

“Want to have a little fun with me?” 

“Do I _ever.”_

Carmilla laughed. She and Laura downed their shots, Carmilla wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Laura rested her chin in her hand, watching her. 

“So, you like clubbing?” 

“Drinking with a hot bartender? How can I not enjoy it? Even if this music is shit…” 

Laura frowned. “Press shuffle if you want.” 

Carmilla took Laura’s advice. The heavy techno beat ended immediately, replaced with soft piano. “...Is this ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love?’” 

“My dad loves Elvis,” Laura offered, “he always played it.” 

“Hold on, I’ll change--” 

Carmilla was stopped by Laura grabbing her wrist. 

“Carm, wait.” 

She moved out from behind the counter. She held out her hand. “Question,” Laura asked, “I mean, I already know the answer, but: ever get to gently sway back and forth with your highschool sweetheart at prom?” 

“...No,” Carmilla answered softly. 

A warm smile spread across Laura’s face. “We should fix that. C’mere.” 

“You are so gross,” Carmilla said fondly, taking Laura’s hand. She pulled Carmilla in smoothly. 

“Okay, so like...one of us has to be the guy and one of us has to be the girl--” 

“That’s a little archaic, isn’t it?” 

“No, I mean, you put your hands on my hips and I put my arms around your neck. Total sappy, swaying back in forth at a high school dance style.” 

“Well, you’re the expert,” Carmilla answered, rolling her eyes. She’d never bothered going to dances; guys would ask her to dance, sometimes even multiple times, and she was never interested. She preferred sneaking alcohol into the woods and having her own anti-prom night with Ell. 

Laura wrapped her arms around Carmilla’s neck as they gently swayed back and forth. After a moment Carmilla said, “this is dumb.” 

“Excuse me for trying to be cute--”

Carmilla pulled Laura closer, until their foreheads were touching. Carmilla grinned. “Much better. Laura?” 

Her lips were parted slightly, and Laura leaned in, kissing Carmilla gently. She melted into it, keeping her eyes closed. 

“Sorry, I mean...you're just really beautiful you know?” 

Maybe it was the music, or the dancing, or just _Laura._ Whatever the reason that led to it, Carmilla buried her face in Laura's neck. 

“You have no idea, Laura,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“Of what?”

“Just...no idea.” 

They stayed like that until the song finished. It wasn't until halfway through the next one that Laura asked, “Carm, wait, are you _crying?”_

Carmilla jerked back. She hadn't even realized her eyes were tearing up. “No.” 

“You _are._ What's wrong?” 

The days were starting to get shorter, and Laura was beautiful and amazing and _temporary._ That was what’s wrong. 

But she couldn't do that to Laura. 

“Summer allergies,” Carmilla lied, wiping her eyes and gathering her things, “I need to go home and take some benadryl.” 

“I'll walk you--”

“No, it's out of your way.” 

Laura looked unhappy; Carmilla couldn't bear that. She stopped, leaning in to kiss Laura softly. 

“You are better than anything I will ever deserve sweetheart. I mean that.” 

She left. Laura placed her fingers lightly against her lips, watching Carmilla walk away, blinking owlishly. What the Slytherin just happened?


	23. Apology Pie

Ell walked with Danny to work now; it wasn’t something they’d ever mentioned. Carmilla just noticed that Ell and Danny were usually walking in at the same time. Danny would linger by Ell’s register for a few moments, and then walk back to the kitchen. 

Carmilla didn’t realize how routine this had become until Ell walked in without her. Carmilla looked up from the magazine she had been reading. 

“Morning, Cinnabon,” Carmilla said, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s Danny?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” Ell answered, beginning to wipe down her register. Carmilla frowned. 

“Uh, what happened?” 

“She overreacted, that’s what happened.” 

“You guys had a...fight…?” 

Ell pouted, polishing her register. The door opened again. Danny stomped in, looked at Ell, and immediately looked away. 

“Hey Red, what’s got your panties in a twist?” 

“I’ll tell you,” Ell interrupted, “I gave Tucker and Annie an oreo and Danny _flipped._ ” 

“That is not true!” Danny snapped. She looked at Carmilla. “They didn’t eat dinner yet. They can’t have sweets before dinner. That’s the _rule._ And they did not just have _one_ oreo--” 

“They’re kids, Danny, a few oreos aren’t going to kill them,” Ell answered, rolling her eyes. 

“No, but then they don’t want to eat dinner. It’s not good for them. And they won’t learn if they know you’ll give them whatever they want!” 

“I do _not_ give them whatever they want--” 

“Then how come whenever I say no they ask you?”

Ell turned red. “...They’re just so _cute,”_ she mumbled, looking down at the floor. Danny still looked cross, before sighing and walking into the kitchen. 

Carmilla’s jaw dropped. “ _Jesus_ Ell.” 

“What?” 

“You didn’t see what just happened?” 

Ell blinked. 

“You are raising children with Danny. You are _married.”_

Ell looked back down at her register. “That’s--that’s just stupid.” 

“You just had an argument because you let the kids have cookies before dinner. You. Are. A. _Dad.”_

Carmilla couldn’t believe it. Laura had it in her head that Ell and Danny would be ‘adorable’ together--and Carmilla laughed it off. Danny couldn’t have been less like Carmilla if she tried. 

Except Ell was starting to turn red. She was about to stammer out an answer when her cellphone rang. 

“Oh!” She pulled it out, putting it to her ear. “...Hey Grandpa. No, just at work. Um. Maybe not the best idea to come around again. If Perry catches you it wouldn’t...exactly. Coffee? Starbucks? Actually I would _love_ that. I’ll see you!” 

Carmilla pretended to gag. 

“Haha, Carmilla, but I will have you know that Grandpa has not said anything remotely...jerk-y since we started talking again.” 

“Wonderful. Mazel tov to the happy couple.” 

She went back to her magazine. She brought the magazine for a reason. So that when she heard Laura walk in, hopefully she’d get the message that there were...things Carmilla didn’t want to talk about. 

It didn't work, unsurprisingly. “Carmilla.” 

She turned the page, refusing to look up and see Laura's face. 

“Carmilla, look at me right now!” 

“I know what you want to talk about and the answer is no.” 

She knew she was being a bitch. Still better than looking at her. 

“Carm…” Laura's voice softened, “I don't even know what I did _wrong…”_

She couldn't stand it. That _voice._ Thatsad little puppy voice.

“You--look, you didn’t--” She put down the magazine. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? I’m fine. I got a little emotional, but that’s on me.” 

Laura hugged herself. “Carmilla, you are not the type to cry. You aren’t. And if my girlfriend starts _crying,_ while we are on a date, I want to know why.” 

Ell frowned a little, eyes flitting quickly toward them before hurriedly looking away. 

“Jesus, Laura, do you have to tell the whole restaurant?” 

“If you told _me,_ I wouldn’t have to. Ell told me yesterday to talk to you, but I didn’t think--”

“Ell _told you?”_

“She wouldn’t tell me anything, just that we needed to talk!” 

Carmilla stood up. “Well you know what, I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“We are dating! You can’t just--just not talk to me when something is bothering you--” 

“You can’t deal with it for another month?” Carmilla snapped, turning and walking away. Laura looked shocked for a moment before following her. 

“Wait, is that what this is about?” Laura asked, “that I’m going to leave?” 

“See? This isn't your problem.” 

“Uh, I think this _definitely_ falls under my problem,” Laura answered, “Carmilla, I am your girlfriend. And I am the one leaving? So, like...my problem.” 

Carmilla started clearing off an empty table, purposefully not looking at her. “It isn’t your problem,” Carmilla answered, “because you can’t do anything about it. You are going to leave and I need to deal with it.” 

“I _know,_ but we are together _now,”_ Laura said earnestly, following Carmilla when she started to walk again, plates balanced on her arms, “and it isn’t as if I don’t feel bad about it--” 

“Laura, you don’t get it,” Carmilla snapped, “that is exactly what I _don’t_ want. You shouldn’t feel bad about going back home. You shouldn’t feel bad about wanting to go back to your life. You shouldn’t feel bad for--for wanting to become a doctor and live in New York over staying with some waitress--and it isn’t fair for me to make you feel _guilty_ for it just because I _love you--_ ” 

Carmilla stopped suddenly, making Laura bump into her back, plates falling to the floor with a _CRASH._

“Fuck!” Carmilla shouted. 

“Carmilla, are you okay?” 

“Yeah--a lot of shattered glass--but I didn’t cut myself-- _Kirsch!”_

She turned her head and looked at Laura. “Oh, shit, Laura, I...I didn’t mean…” 

Laura wasn’t sure what made her more terrified. 

Carmilla saying she was in love with her. 

Or Laura not being sure she _wanted_ Carmilla to deny that was what she meant. 

“I--I should probably go,” Laura said, backing up, “I need to go home, I had stuff I needed to do today, I mean...I will call you, okay? I’m sorry.” 

Carmilla didn’t say anything, just watched Laura back up slowly before turning around and walking out the door. 

She should have stopped Laura from leaving. But she didn’t; as much as that would have been the right thing, she didn’t think she could bring herself to face Laura’s reaction. Besides, Laura’s face was enough of an answer. 

Kirsch came out of the kitchen. “Dude, what was that-- _whoa._ I’ll clean it up. You should move before you cut yourself, bro.” 

Carmilla walked away. She took a moment to lean against the wall. She saw Ell looking at her. 

“Well, I told her,” Carmilla said weakly, “still think Laura and I should have ‘talked?’” 

She closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry again; she felt more tired than upset, for some reason. But she was surprised by the feeling of someone grabbing her, and before she knew it, there was Ell giving her a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” Ell said, “you guys didn’t like…?” 

“I don’t _think_ we did? But I wouldn’t be surprised. She looked kind of freaked out.” 

Ell took a moment to consider it before saying, “if she breaks up with you over this I am going to kill her.” 

Carmilla couldn’t help but snort at the thought of Ell threatening _anyone_ with bodily harm--and Ell smiled. 

“Okay, I made you laugh, so I’m going to consider that a win.” 

Ell let go, Carmilla took a deep breath. She still had work. 

***

Everyone was looking at Carmilla kind of sideways since The Incident. It was bad enough that they had that whole exchange publicly--it was even worse to have everyone giving Carmilla pitying glances over it. She dealt with it the best way she knew how: a deep scowl and pointedly ignoring them. She didn’t even have the energy to tease Ell when Danny came out on her break with a box of blueberries and a heartfelt apology. 

“Look, you’re right, an oreo isn’t going to kill them,” she had told her, “you’re coming over tonight to have dinner with us and I’d hate for the twins to see us fighting with each other. I’m sorry, okay?” 

Ell bit her lip. “ _I’m_ sorry. They’re your siblings and if you set boundaries I should follow them.” 

“Friends?” 

Ell grabbed the box, smiling, putting it under her register and hugging Danny over the counter. “Of course. I’ll see you tonight then.” 

Danny went back to the kitchen, and Ell looked at Carmilla out of the corner of her eye. 

“Um, Carm, was that _so domestic_ or what?” She said, trying to get a reaction out of her. Carmilla shrugged. 

“Hm?” Carmilla looked up from her pie, which she had been wallowing in at the counter. Ell frowned and lowered her hand. 

“Never mind. Laura still hasn’t called back?” 

“I sent her a text message and left a voicemail. Now I’m just trying to force myself to give her space.” 

She went back to her pie. She heard the door open and Ell exclaim: 

“Mrs. Cochrane!” 

Carmilla’s head snapped back up. Ell was hugging Mrs. Cochrane from the side; she had a walker in the way. Mrs. Cochrane gently pat Ell on the back. 

“Ell, honey, how are you? Laura told me you started talking to Danny again.” 

“We are! I’m doing great. How are you?”

“Able to leave the house, so that’s an improvement. Is Carmilla here?” 

Carmilla’s blood ran cold. She hunched over. 

“Oh, yeah. She’s at the counter.” 

“Shit, Ell,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“Wonderful to see you, Ell,” Mrs. Cochrane said, “please stop by. Bring Danny and the twins if you can.” 

“I will!” 

Carmilla kept her eyes glued on the counter. Mrs. Cochrane, with some difficulty, managed to get away from the walker and onto a stool. 

“You want to avoid me so badly that you wouldn’t help a feeble old woman sit down? Wow, Carmilla. I am surprised at you.” 

“...Hey, Mrs. C. How are you.” 

“Better than Laura.” 

Great. _Here we go._

“I’m going to be frank, Carmilla,” Mrs. Cochrane said, “Laura came home very upset, and she would not tell me what was wrong. But a grandmother has intuition about these sorts of things, and I just had a sinking feeling it had something to do with _you._ Was I right?” 

“A little,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“Why is my granddaughter upset?” 

Carmilla shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was hard to lie to Mrs. Cochrane. She wasn’t a great liar on the spot anyway, and especially not to someone who was like her grandmother. “I...look, I got a little emotional because Laura is moving away and I’m going to miss her, okay? And Laura started to talk about maybe trying to make it work and I just…I may have said stuff that freaked her out.” 

“Like…?” 

“That I loved her?” Carmilla said, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. 

“...Laura is in her room crying because you said you loved her?” 

“She’s-- _fuck,_ she’s crying?” 

“Carmilla, language.” 

“Sorry. But I mean, I told Laura that she shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to leave just because of...of _that,_ you know, that I didn’t want her to feel like choosing her life back home over me would make her a bad person.” 

Mrs. Cochrane laughed softly to herself, shaking her head. “Well I’ll be. Carmilla Karnstein in love with my granddaughter.” 

“Oh, yes, it’s _wonderful,”_ Carmilla answered. 

“You say it sarcastically, but I agree,” Mrs. Cochrane answered, “I won’t lie, Carmilla, I wasn’t sure how serious you both were about this, but I had a feeling you would be good for each other.” 

“Each other?” Carmilla shoved her plate away. “What do I have to give Laura? Laura is...she’s amazing _._ She is so far out of my league it isn’t even funny. She’s _crying,_ I mean Jesus, I couldn’t even keep her happy for a few months--” 

“Bullshit,” Mrs. Cochrane answered. 

Carmilla blinked. “...Language?” 

“Well, this time it was warranted,” she answered, swiveling her stool to face her. “Carmilla, I am so tired of the way you talk about yourself. This woe-is-me attitude because you think because you live here you can’t amount to anything.” 

“I _haven’t_ amounted to anything. I’m a waitress who never went to college living in a podunk town. Laura is an aspiring doctor from New York City. Do the math.” 

Mrs. Cochrane pursed her lips. “Carmilla, I want you to go ask Ell if you’ve amounted to anything.” 

Carmilla sighed. “Mrs. C--” 

“Or Danny--Laura told me what you did for her. Ask her if you don’t matter to anyone. Ask Lola and LaFontaine if you’re nothing when you’re done saving their livelihood. Ask _my granddaughter,_ when she’s finished crying because she cares about you so much.” 

“I know what you’re trying to say, but that isn’t--” 

“At least ask _me.”_

For a moment they stared at each other. “...Fine. What do _you_ think?” 

Mrs. Cochrane rested her hands on her knees. “After my daughter died,” she said, “I was a mess. You can imagine. I didn’t think I could ever get over it.” 

Carmilla nodded. She was young but she remembered. 

“But then one morning,” she continued, “I hear a knock on the door, and there’s you and your mother with a pie recipe you made up all by yourself for me.” 

“I remember. Mom helped me with what to say and everything…but I was _four.”_

“And I never forgot it,” she answered, “it was an oreo crust pie with chocolate meringue. That’s the kind of person you _are,_ Carmilla.” 

“I am an oreo crust pie with chocolate meringue?” 

“Haha,” Mrs. Cochrane answered dryly, “no. You care about people, Carmilla.” 

She snorted. 

“Okay, so you don’t _say_ you do. But that’s why you have your baking. As for living here...take it from someone who has known you since you were born; you would be just as miserable in New York City as you are now. The problem isn’t Silas, dear, it is _you.”_

Carmilla bristled a little. “Great. Because clearly you know me better than I know myself, huh?” 

“I’m only telling you that if you want to feel like you matter, all you need to do is _look around.”_

“You sound like Laura.” 

“Well, my granddaughter is smart. Maybe you should listen to her. Are you going to talk to Laura or not?” 

Carmilla started tapping a finger against the countertop. “...I’ll stop by.” 

“Good.” She stood up; this time Carmilla grabbed her and helped. “One more thing,” she said, “I thought I wouldn’t have to do this, but apparently I do. If you ever make Laura cry again, I don’t care if I have to come back as a ghost, I will end you.” 

Carmilla swallowed. “Will do.” 

She helped Mrs. Cochrane to the door; Ell hugged her again, promised to visit, and waved. She looked at Carmilla. “How did that go?” 

“Well, she threatened to come back as a ghost and haunt me.” 

Ell wrinkled her nose. “Sounds...interesting.” 

Carmilla rubbed her arm. “Ell?” 

“Yes?” 

“Is my baking...helpful?” 

Ell blinked. “You’re seriously asking _me_ this question?” 

“I know how you feel about _me,_ but what about my...pies.” 

“You want to know how your _pies_ fit in with the grand scheme of the universe?” 

“Kind of.” 

Carmilla started to feel kind of embarrassed. They were pies. Fun to eat, but unimportant. Of course they were. Ell looked like she was trying to decide if Carmilla was joking. 

“...When my parents died and I had to live with Grandpa in Lustig,” Ell said, “he was making me go to all those work events, forcing me to talk to boys. You remember that, right?” 

“Yeah? I think I went to one with you once. It sucked.” 

“I’d look in the mirror before a party, in one of those stupid dresses he’d make me wear, and I don’t think I have _ever_ felt more miserable in my life. You know what got me through it? On weekends when I visited you, you’d always make sure I left with a pie. Before every party I would go down to the kitchen, and I’d have a slice, and it was just like, this little reminder, you know? That if I could keep my head up until the weekend I could go _home._ That really, really helped. _”_

Ell bit her lip. “So...so yeah, I think you help people more than you realize.” 

Carmilla didn’t know what to say. She struggled to figure out a response before “...I really, really need to talk to Laura after work.” 

“You really, _really_ should. Um...hey, do you think you could do me a favor?” 

“After that speech? Sure, whatever you want.” 

“Could you make your buttermilk pie?” 

Carmilla smirked. “Talking about pies made you hungry, huh?” 

“Sort of? You know, I’m going to be at Danny’s tonight and, uh…” Ell mumbled something. 

“What?” 

“It’s her favorite and I want to do something nice since she apologized, okay?” 

Carmilla fought back a laugh. “Oh, well, of _course._ Anything to help you smooth things over with the wife.” 

She turned completely red. “ _Please_ do not make this weird.” 

Carmilla still wasn’t one hundred percent yet, so she didn’t keep giving Ell a hard time. 

***

When Laura didn’t want to deal with something, she turned to the comfort of her laptop and TV. The guest room--her mother’s old room, in fact--had an old boxy television set, and Gran had turned the bookcase into a shelf to store old DVDs. She’d been distracting herself with them. 

Vaguely she thought she had heard her grandmother leave at some point, but Laura couldn’t bring herself to care other than sending her a brief text asking her where she was going. When the answer ‘grocery store’ came back, Laura let herself be satisfied with that answer. 

What even had happened? A fight? Laura had never imagined a fight being how her girlfriend would say ‘I love you.’ Then again, Laura had never imagined herself being in a relationship like this at all…

The door creaked open and Laura looked up. There was Carmilla, standing in the doorway with a pie. 

“Hey.” 

“...Hey.” Laura paused the TV. “You can, um, come in.” 

Carmilla did. She sat down next to Laura on the bed, and wordlessly handed Laura the pie. 

“Thanks,” Laura said. 

“It’s Apology Pie,” Carmilla answered, “it’s a no bake grasshopper pie--pudding, mint, chocolate crust and whatever--it’s really quick to make so I used it as a kid if I got in trouble with my Mom or Dad. Worked like a charm.” 

It smelled delicious, of course, and Laura told her so. 

“Thanks, Cupcake.” 

She looked down at her hands, then at the TV. “Watching a movie?” 

“Yeah. To help, um...clear my head.” 

“Did it work...?” 

“Well, the movie was about a waitress that bakes and has an affair with her doctor. So not really.” 

Carmilla winced. “Did they, uh...work out?” 

“No. But she leaves her husband and if you watch it that’s a really good thing, so. Happy ending.” 

Carmilla nodded. “Great.” 

It was a game of emotional chicken, both waiting to see who would open up first. Laura probably should considering how she had left that morning; but before she could gather up the courage to say something, Carmilla beat her to it. 

“What I said this morning, I shouldn’t have said,” Carmilla told her, “I hope you weren’t too freaked out about it.” 

“I want to deny I was, but you probably won’t believe me considering I ran out of there.” 

Laura smiled sheepishly. Carmilla took a breath. 

“Yeah. Yeah I wouldn’t have. Look…” She ran a hand through her hair. “I want to say I didn’t mean it. But I can’t. I _can_ promise I won’t say it again, though. And it’s okay if you don’t feel that way, either, I mean...it’s unbelievable enough that I got you to agree to date me.” 

Laura nodded. “That’s...I think I can handle that. I’m sorry it took me some time to process it, but I think I can. I just hope Gran doesn’t kill you, I’m pretty sure she suspected you were the reason I came home looking so upset--” 

“Oh, don’t worry, she already threatened me.” 

“ _What?”_

“Stopped by the diner.” 

“Oh my God, she said she was going to the store!” 

“You believed that?” 

Laura laughed softly to herself. “I guess I shouldn’t have.” 

Carmilla relaxed a little. She moved closer to Laura. “You know Mrs. Cochrane actually mentioned you a lot?” She admitted. 

“She did?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “She’d come into the diner and talk about you all the time. ‘Laura just got the lead in the school play’, ‘Laura made the honor society’. ‘Laura got elected class president.’ ‘Laura got into medical school.’” She shrugged. “To be honest I felt like I knew you before I met you.” 

Laura got very quiet. 

“...Laura?” 

“Was Ell right?” 

Carmilla frowned. “About what?”

“That I’m just this...this ego booster for you. That you just see me as this...shiny _thing.”_

“What? Laura, of course not--” 

“Because last night, you were saying I am too good for you, and I just--you told me _that_ this morning, which you have to admit was a little _fast,_ and I can’t help but wonder if that’s because you’re putting me on a pedestal.” 

Laura felt guilty for saying it, but she felt it was a fair question. Carmilla looked utterly shocked. 

“An _ego boost?_ Shit, Laura, I have never felt more insecure in my life. If I wanted an ego boost this is not how I would get it.” 

“But what about putting me on a pedestal?” 

It was Carmilla’s turn to be quiet. 

“...I guess a little,” Carmilla admitted, “but Laura, when I first met you it made me act like a _dick._ Then I actually got to _know_ you. That made me want to be with you. I like you because you are so smart, you’re funny, you make me feel like...like myself. I’ve felt like I was this muted version of myself for years but I don’t feel like that when I’m with you.” 

Laura didn’t look convinced. “So if I wasn’t a doctor,” she said, “and if I was from some town you’d never heard of, you wouldn’t feel any different about me?” 

“No.” She said it without hesitation, surprising even herself. She _didn’t_ care. Laura was Laura. 

Tears started to prick at the corners of Laura’s eyes and Carmilla held Laura’s face in her hands. “Laura, no. Come on, I’m sorry, please don’t be upset--” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Laura said, “I told you when we started dating that I didn’t want to if it meant hurting you and now you _love_ me, and I wish I could say it back but I _can’t,_ and I’m leaving and this is so not what I wanted.” 

“I know. It’s my fault. I suck and I ruined everything, okay? I’m sorry.” 

Laura wiped her eyes. “Maybe we should end this now--” 

Carmilla could feel the panic rising in her chest. “No, no way, Laura, _please_ don’t say that.” 

“But this is _hurting you._ That is the last thing I want to do. And I can’t make it better but I can stop it from getting worse.” 

“Don’t you remember what _I_ said when we got together? That it would be worse not to be with you at all. I want every second I can get with you. To see you every day and not get to kiss you, to not get to hold your hand, Hell, even argue you with you just to see how flustered you could get...honestly, I think that would be even worse.” 

Laura cracked, leaning in and kissing her, and Carmilla sighed. 

“We need to get recommitted to what we promised,” Laura said against her lips. 

“Totally, yeah.” 

“Light and casual, right? I think it’s good that we aired everything out but...but we can’t be all doomed and tragic and star cross-y. That won’t work.” Laura kissed her again. Carmilla held her waist and pulled her in closer. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Maybe everything is just...really heightened because the time limit is getting us carried away, you know?” 

“Right,” Carmilla mumbled, kissing her again. She was honestly too elated at the fact that she _wasn’t_ getting dumped to care. “Light, casual, not a star crossed scenario and whatever.” 

“And Carm?” A hand came up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Carmilla’s ear. “I really am sorry about how I reacted to what you...said this morning.” 

“I should have never said it at all, it’s okay. And we were kind of in the middle of a fight at the time.” 

Laura shook her head. “Can I be honest? While we’re clearing the air?” 

“Sure.” 

She bit her lip. “I was...more upset that I couldn’t say it back, than I was at you saying it.” 

Carmilla smiled wistfully, kissing Laura softly again. It didn’t matter. The way Laura made her feel meant more than three words ever could. 


	24. A Toast

“So that’s the conversation you had?” 

Carmilla was throwing pies out of the oven, handing them to Ell, letting her put them on the counter in the kitchen. “Word for word.” 

“So you haven’t broken up?” 

“Nope. Hand me those plates, huh?” 

Ell frowned, grabbing plates and handing them to Carmilla. “Do you need the pie server too?” 

“Sure.” 

Carmilla cut the pies into pieces. 

“Why aren’t we having this party in the diner, Carmilla?” 

“Because,” she answered, “we are celebrating the diner being in the black again, and LaFontaine said they wanted to get Perry out of the house and away from the diner for one night.” 

They’d just finished paying off bills and realized they actually _made_ money. A small amount. But money nonetheless. And their orders were only increasing by the day. Perry was practically sobbing with relief when she realized it. 

“Everyone's coming?” 

“Yeah. Ell?” 

She looked back from where she was bent, watching the oven. “Yes?” 

“When Laura gets here, please be cool.”

“...Be cool?” 

“I saw the look you had on your face when I was telling you what happened. You looked like you wanted to bite her head off.” 

Ell opened the oven door and pulled out an apple pie. “I don't hate Laura, I just...don't love the way she's been acting.”

“Well, you wouldn't,” Carmilla answered, grabbing lemonade from the fridge. Ell put the pie on the counter. 

“Not everything I do is fueled by _jealousy,_ you know,” Ell said pointedly. Carmilla poured herself a glass. 

“...Look, I know,” she conceded. 

“I’ve been getting out more, spending time with people besides you--”

“Not to mention getting married,” Carmilla finished with a smirk, “and I think it’s less ‘people’ and one person in particular.”

Ell blushed.

 _“_ I'm just saying, I don't like Laura because I am your _friend._ ”

Carmilla stared at Ell, and she stared back. But, unsurprisingly, Ell backed down. 

“...Look, I'm sorry, I'm just nervous.” 

“Why?” 

“Grandpa invited me to a business function--” Carmilla groaned, and Ell finished, “ _hey,_ wait, he promised me he wouldn’t make me talk to boys or anything. So I’m _hoping_ it’ll be fun but like...it’s hard to believe him, obviously.” 

“Eat lots of pie before you go,” Carmilla answered. Ell smiled. 

“Thank you for the buttermilk pie, by the way. Danny practically inhaled it.” 

“No problem. Can you do _me_ a favor?” 

Ell frowned. “Absolutely, anything.” 

“You know where the liquor cabinet is, and you know how to mix a good drink. Mint julep?” 

Ell licked her lips. “I’ll get right on it.” 

There was a knock on the door and Carmilla smiled at Ell before going to answer it. Perry and LaFontaine were standing arm in arm, both beaming. 

“Thank you so much for hosting this little party, Carmilla,” Perry said. 

“Sure, Perry. Feeling better, huh?”

“I haven't felt this relaxed since before I got _engaged,”_ Perry answered, giving her spouse a peck on the cheek. . LaFontaine ran a hand through their hair. 

“I’m definitely ready to celebrate. Point me in the direction of the booze.” 

Carmilla motioned with her head. “Ell is mixing the drinks right now.” 

“Whoooo!” 

LaFontaine pulled Perry down the hallway. Carmilla stayed by the door. They lived so close to each other that if one was showing up, the rest couldn’t have been that far behind. 

Elsie, Betty, and Kirsch showed up next with the same request as LaFontaine, and Carmilla was more than happy to point them to the kitchen, “as long as you don’t overdo it guys. Looking at _you_ especially Kirsch.” 

“Hey, I’m better than I was in high school bro!” 

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Betty promised, grabbing Kirsch and Elsie and going down the hallway.

Carmilla hung back near the door until Danny showed up. 

“Why did you bring _her?”_

“Well, fuck you too,” Mel answered dryly. 

“Mel!” Danny hissed, looking down at her at her legs, where Tucker and Annie were clinging. “Guys, you can't say that _ever.”_

“How come we can't?” Annie asked. 

“Because it's mean. Carmilla, Mel just wanted to hang out, but I didn't want to miss a party. Come on.” 

Carmilla sighed. “...Fine.” 

Mel stepped inside, looking around. “So where’s the wife?” 

“Uh, if you mean Laura--” Carmilla began, turning around. 

“No, not _your_ wife--” 

“Mel,” Danny groaned, “ _please_ stop.” 

The lightbulb clicked in Carmilla’s head. “She’s in the kitchen mixing drinks.”

Tucker and Annie bounded off Danny’s legs, running toward the kitchen. From the hallway Carmilla heard Ell squeak, “ _kids!”_

“You have to stop that Mel,” Danny said, “you’re teaching Tucker and Annie that Ell is ‘the wife’ now.” 

“But it’s _fun,”_ Mel pointed out. Danny narrowed her eyes at her and walked down the hallway. Carmilla raised an eyebrow. 

“You call Ell _the wife?”_

“Oh come on, they’re married,” Mel answered, rolling her eyes, “yesterday Danny and I had coffee and she was complaining that Ell gave the twins _oreos_ before _dinner._ ” 

Carmilla shook Mel’s hand. 

“...What was that for?” 

“It was a moment of begrudging respect,” Carmilla answered, “you’re okay.” 

“...Uh, thanks. They’re not going to bite my head off if I go in there, right?” 

“You? Honestly if anything they’ll probably be a little afraid of you.” 

Mel looked like she was looking forward to it when she turned and walked into the kitchen. 

Which only left one person yet to show. 

“Carm?” Ell poked her head in, “are you going to eat with us?” 

“Laura isn't here yet.” 

“She’ll knock.” 

Carmilla looked back at the door before hesitantly stepping into the kitchen. Ell smiled, handing Carmilla a glass. 

“Here, I made yours extra strong.” 

“Thanks Cinnabon.” 

They clinked glasses and drank. Ell grinned, raising her glass. 

“To Carmilla, the best friend _ever!”_

“Agreed!” Betty exclaimed. Carmilla looked at Ell. 

“Don't overdo it Cinnabon.” 

“I'm not,” Ell answered, pouting. Mel looked at Danny. 

“So this is all we do? Stand around drinking and eating pie?” 

“Is there anything you would _rather_ be doing?” Danny asked. 

Mel actually flashed a half smile, sipping from her glass. “If the food is this good, I guess not.” 

Danny laughed. Ell walked up to them. 

“We're glad you're here Mel,” Ell said, grabbing her glass and finishing it. Mel wrinkled her nose. 

“Uh, Ell, you okay?” 

“Of course I am! I'm just loosening up you know, getting ready for Grandpa's party tonight.” 

She licked her lips. “Besides, I love mint juleps. Anything with bourbon honestly.” 

“Ookay, Ell, you are straddling the line between tipsy and drunk right now,” LaFontaine said, “you might want to slow it down.” 

“I'm fine,” Ell answered, turning around suddenly enough that she splashed some of her drink on Carmilla’s blouse. She sobered up quickly. “Oh my God Carmilla, I’m so sorry!”

“...It's fine. I'll go clean myself up. Let Laura in if she knocks.”

Carmilla went upstairs and Ell looked down at her glass guiltily. “Maybe I should put it down…”

There was a knock at the door and Danny made a move like she was going to answer it. Ell waved her off. 

“She told me to get it.”

Ell walked to the door. Laura was standing on the porch, smiling sheepishly. 

“Um, hi, Ell. Carmilla here?” 

“She’s in the bathroom,” Ell looked down at Laura’s hands. “What is that?” 

Laura looked down at the box. “A peace offering? I don’t know how much Carmilla told you--” 

“Carmilla told me enough,” Ell answered, not unkindly. But not particularly kindly either. 

“Well, she brought me a pie yesterday so I thought this might be a...nice gesture. I’m not a great baker but I know she likes cupcakes. Just to make sure things are okay between us, you know?”

She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain to Ell, why she kind of wanted her to approve. But she held the box up a little higher. Ell just blinked. 

“...Cupcakes. You thought to make up for yesterday you would buy her cupcakes.” 

“No, I actually baked them. They probably don’t taste great, but it is the thought that counts--” 

Ell closed the door and stepped out onto the porch.

“Listen,” Ell said, “Carmilla would forgive you if she saw you shoot the _Pope,_ but if you think I am going to let you get away with just baking some cupcakes you are wrong.” 

She looked down at her glass and finished it. Laura frowned a little. 

“Ell, you’ve been drinking--”

“And I am glad I am!” Ell answered. “I would normally never have the courage to say this but you know what? I am a few glasses in and I am getting this off my chest. You're a _jerk_.”

Laura was taken aback, frowning. “Ell, I think the only opinion I care about is Carmilla’s. So move out of the way.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Ell answered, refusing to move, “I know you think that I’m just--just some jealous not-really-ex holding a grudge. But I am not. I am Carmilla’s friend of twenty-two _years._ She doesn’t have her mom or her dad to look out for her. She has _me._ So if your grandmother can threaten Carmilla, _I_ get to be mad at you.” 

Laura tried to reply only for Ell to cut her off. “I thought Carmilla was using _you_ for an ego boost, but it ended up being the complete opposite. You think you can--can just sleep with my friend and brag to all your friends about the hot girl you got to date over the summer--” 

“I am not sleeping with Carmilla,” Laura snapped, “and it is _really_ gross of you to say that.” 

“Fine. You’re just going to dump her in a month like she doesn’t mean anything to you. That’s _great.”_

“I really preferred totally sober Ell,” Laura said. “Carmilla is _my_ girlfriend. You do not know what my relationship with _my_ girlfriend is like. Do you think I _want_ to break up with her? I do not need you to make me feel awful about it--” 

“Well if Carmilla has to feel awful about it, you do too!” 

“You think I _don’t?_ You don’t think I take our relationship seriously? You don’t think the idea of leaving makes me feel _sick,_ that every time I even look at a calendar it makes me feel like I can’t even _breathe--”_

Laura stopped. “Please just let me inside Ell.”

Ell was still frowning, but her gaze had softened.”...Laura, do you want to go back?”

“Of course I need to go back. I have school--”

“But do you _want_ to?”

Laura considered what Ell asked again.

“I have wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember,” she answered, “I want to finish what my mom started.”

“I didn't hear you say you wanted to go _back._ ” 

Laura clenched her jaw. “Well if I want to be a doctor I have to.” 

Ell ran a hand through her hair. She sat down on the porch step.

“Laura, sit down for a second.”

She thought about just going inside. But Ell didn't seem angry anymore. Laura was curious. She sat down, resting the cupcakes on her lap. “Yes…?”

“I...don't think you're a jerk,” she amended, “or like, not naturally. You're like...a synthetically made jerk. Not really mean, just like, this situation is being handled badly…” She tried to blink away the thin film of alcohol that had settled on her brain. She shook her head. “I think that didn’t make sense.” 

Laura frowned. “Um, if you want to continue this later--” 

“ _No._ Okay, Laura, my mom met my dad when he was working on one of Grandpa’s hotels up in Lustig.” 

“He was an architect?” 

“No. He was a construction worker. Grandpa never liked Dad, threatened to cut my mom off if she married him.” She shrugged. “But Mom did it anyway.” 

“And the lesson learned is that love is more important than my career, I’m guessing?” 

Ell looked at Laura. “No,” Ell waved her hand, “Grandpa threatens stuff like that all the time, but he never goes through with it. The lesson is that I came along, and _I_ was always supposed to be this great businesswoman like them--from as long as I can remember,” Ell gave Laura a pointed look, “and I gave up. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to do it. Until this summer. _This,_ what I’m doing with the diner now? I like it, and I’m _good_ at it. This isn’t the way it was supposed to happen. But it still _did._ And I didn’t have to go to stupid investor parties or ruin small businesses to do it. _”_

Laura shook her head. “I am still not understanding what exactly you want me to do, Ell. Do you want me to throw away all of my education? Give up on what I’ve been doing for twenty-four years because of one summer--” 

She stopped when she realized that Ell had flipped open the box, taking a bite of a cupcake. Ell chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed. “All I mean,” Ell said, “is that there are more ways to run a business than the way Grandpa told me I had to. And there is more than one way to be a doctor. Isn’t Carmilla worth _trying_ to look at what they are?” 

“It’s not exactly _easy._ You’re acting like it’s that easy.” 

Ell blinked. “So you’re saying she _isn’t_ worth it--” 

“Of _course_ she’s worth it!” Laura answered immediately. Ell’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh my God,” Ell continued, “I definitely take it back,” she took another bite, “you are not a jerk at all. You are _scared._ ” 

“Fine. Fine, Ell, you win,” Laura stood up, “of _course,_ this is scary. How can it not be, when I have had my entire life mapped out for me and I’ve _never_ thought about changing it and--and if a girl I have known for one summer is making me have doubts for even a _second,_ how much could I have ever really wanted--and then my whole life has just been working up to this thing I never really wanted--and then I have to start my entire life over from scratch and of _course_ that is a little _frightening._ ” 

The front door opened, Danny poking her head out, and Laura realized she was raising her voice. “Uh, guys, everything okay…?” 

“Yeah,” Laura answered, “we were just talking.” 

“It’s fine,” Ell agreed, standing up and wiping off her pants, “sorry for taking so long.” 

Danny frowned a little, but nodded hesitantly. “Well, we were just about to cut into the pie Carmilla apparently named after _you,_ so I thought you’d want to be in there for that.” 

“Don’t worry Danny, you know I’m not going to miss out on _that_.”

Danny smiled a little and shut the door. Ell and Laura looked at each other. 

“You are weirdly perceptive when drunk,” Laura said. 

“Oh, I’m more...half-sober than drunk,” Ell answered,“sober enough not to be able to speak clearly, well like mostly. I just had enough so that I actually say what I’m thinking.” She bit her lip. “Look...for my best friend’s sake, I’m just asking for like, a _day,_ even half a day, I don’t care...stop operating under the assumption that you _need_ to break up with her. Please. Please?” 

Laura sighed. “...Fine. Okay. Anything else?” 

Ell put a hand on Laura’s upper arm. She didn’t say anything for a moment. “...I was about to say something really profound, I think, but I kind of forgot. Maybe I did have a little too much…” 

Laura and Ell looked at each other uncomfortably before Ell mumbled something about having to change, walking inside. She followed her. 

***

Carmilla couldn't get the stain out of her shirt. After about ten minutes scrubbing at the splotch with a paper towel she finally gave up, changing into another one, and went downstairs. She saw Laura standing in the middle of the hallway.

“Hey, Cupcake!”

Laura turned around and smiled. “Was that directed to me or the cupcakes I brought?”

Carmilla grabbed one. “Both. Sorry I didn't meet you at the door, cutie.” 

“Hey, it's fine.” Laura leaned forward and kissed her. “I hope my attempt at baking wasn't a disaster.” 

Carmilla shrugged. “It's the thought that counts. Come on, let's go into the kitchen. You can put down that box.”

She followed Carmilla into the kitchen, where the party was in full swing. LaFontaine had found Carmilla’s CD player, piping country rock through the speakers while Perry laughed at them belting the lyrics. Kirsch and Elsie were trying to see who could finish more pie, while Betty cheered both of them on. Mel and Danny were sitting at the kitchen table. Carmilla’s eyebrows shot up.

“I know I don't know you that well, Mel,” Carmilla said, “but you did not seem like the type to let kids sit in your lap.”

Mel looked down; she had Tucker sitting in her lap, happily munching on a piece of pie. “The wife had to get dressed,” Danny rolled her eyes a little at Mel calling Ell the wife again, “so I just filled in so they wouldn't have a riot.”

Tucker finished his pie. “I like Mel,” he stated.

“Yeah, she's cool and kinda scary!” Annie agreed. Mel looked pleasantly surprised. 

“Oh. Uh...thanks guys.” She said, awkwardly patting Tucker twice on the head. 

“Okay, okay,” Perry her a spoon against her glass, “I had a few remarks I wanted to make, if you don’t mind?” 

“We should wait for Ell--” Danny started. 

“I’m here! Sorry!” 

Ell walked back into the kitchen, putting on one of her high heels. “I had to get dressed,” Ell continued, “so I’d be ready when I had to go meet with Grandpa. Carmilla, thanks for letting me change here!” 

“It isn’t a big deal, Cinnabon,” Carmilla answered, “you look good.” 

She was wearing a blue, long sleeved lace dress, hair in a tight bun, earrings swinging slightly when she looked at Danny. “Um, Danny, are you okay…?” 

“Uh--yeah,” Danny shook her head quickly, “fine. Fine.” 

Carmilla snickered behind her hand. 

“Well, you look lovely Ell,” Perry said, “now that we’re all here…” Perry cleared her throat, “I just wanted to say a few words--Carmilla, I wanted to thank you, first of all, for throwing this little get together.” 

Carmilla shrugged, sticking her hands in her pockets. 

“As you can imagine, being a Jewish, queer woman in a small town in Alabama can be...difficult sometimes. I know more than a few of you can relate somewhat,” Perry continued, LaFontaine rubbing their arm affectionately. “That’s why the diner is so important to me--it’s a place where I’ve always been able to be myself. It’s a safe place for people. I hope it’s felt like that for you, too, because as the owner that really is very, very important to me.” 

“Perry is the swaggiest boss ever!” Elsie exclaimed, “whooo!” 

There was a brief smattering of clapping, and Perry nodded and smiled. “Thank you. But this toast isn’t for me...I’m just trying to say that the diner is _so_ important to me, and so important to the people that work here, and Carmilla...just, thank you. For all your hard work. For baking practically day and night to fill orders. Just a few weeks ago I was worrying myself _sick_ thinking that we might have to close our doors. Now, if things keep going the way they’re going, LaFontaine and I might actually be able to plan a honeymoon soon.” 

She looked at her spouse, beaming, and they shared a brief kiss. 

“To be clear, the same goes for Laura and Ell too,” LaFontaine continued, “we wouldn’t be anywhere without Laura’s ideas, and Ell has been doing a great job keeping track of everything.” 

Ell smiled softly. Perry looked at her. “I know helping us instead of your grandfather can’t be easy,” Perry said, “and I’m...sorry about that. Thank you.” 

“It’s fine, Perry,” Ell said, so happy she looked like she was about to cry, “seriously. Thank _you._ ” 

Carmilla grabbed Laura’s box of cupcakes, putting it on the table. “Okay, this feeling sharing circle is starting to give me diabetes,” Carmilla said, “I’m going to throw in my two cents and wrap this up.” 

Tucker and Annie started grabbing the cupcakes (Danny and Mel started trying to hold them back) and Carmilla bit her lip for a moment. 

“...I am not the cheeriest person,” Carmilla began, “you all know that. I had nothing to do with this working out. If it had been up to me, we would be just as badly off as before.” 

She looked at Danny. “Red here helped me bake at night instead of taking care of her brother and sister,” she looked at Ell, “Cinnabon here worked with Laura and I even when she really, really didn’t want to. And I couldn’t ask for a better friend.” 

Ell looked at her and nodded. 

“Kirsch and Elsie had to clean up the mess I made every night when I was too tired to do it myself. Betty, I can’t even count how many times you took on tables I should have been waiting on because I had a new recipes I couldn’t wait to try out or I needed time to keep up with online orders. And Laura,” Carmilla looked at her, “I don’t even need to get into how important Laura is to me.” 

Laura blushed, smiling down at the floor. 

“So I guess what I’m saying is, I’m not more important,” Carmilla finished, “we’re _all_ important. We’re all doing something...really good here. Sure, we're not changing the world or anything,” she turned around, grabbing one of Laura’s cupcakes. “But there's something to be said about being able to eat good food with all your friends on a nice day.” 

“To pie!” Kirsch exclaimed. Carmilla grinned. 

“Yeah, let's end it with that. To pie!”

Everyone laughed, clinking glasses and generally making noise. Laura gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“That was really nice Carm.”

“Thanks. This is enough lovey dovey-ness for one summer though.” 

“Okay, fine, go back to brooding now.”

“With pleasure.”

Danny got up, bumping into Carmilla. 

“Hey!”

“Sorry! I, uh...must not have been watching.”

Carmilla followed Danny's gaze to Ell, who was talking to Perry. “...You're still not watching, Red.”

“Huh?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. Laura looked at Danny thoughtfully. When Danny walked over to the counter, presumably for more pie or bourbon (or both), Mel looked at Tucker and Annie. 

“Hey, anklebiters,” Mel said, “can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure, Aunt Mel,” Annie said. Mel wrinkled her nose a little but chose not to comment. 

“Danny thinks Ell looks pretty. Do you?” 

“‘Course we do,” Tucker answered. 

“Do you think if Ell looks pretty, she deserves to have someone tell her?” 

“Sure!” 

“Well, Danny wants to tell her, but she’s not sure how,” Mel said, “can you tell Ell Danny thinks she looks pretty?” 

Tucker and Annie looked at each other. “...Sure, Mel.” 

“Go ahead, then,” she shooed them off. Laura looked at her. 

“‘Aunt Mel?’” 

“I don’t know either. What can I say? I’m good with kids. I think they appreciate the bluntness.” 

“Okay,” Carmilla said, “but what was with...that.” 

Mel shrugged. “Danny is my friend. She should get laid.” 

“Hey, Ell!” Annie tugged on her dress. Ell looked down, away from Perry. “Danny thinks you look really pretty.” 

Danny paused with a glass halfway to her lips. “ _What?”_

Ell blinked. Her face started to turn red and she looked at Danny. She walked over to her. “Is that true?“

“I--well--“ Danny finished her glass, steeling her courage. “Yes. I think you look _fantastic_ in that dress. Honestly.” 

She watched Ell nervously. Ell beamed. “Ah, thank you Danny. Did I ever tell you that you’re really sweet?” She reached up, playing with the buttons on Danny’s shirt. “You’d look better if you unbutton one of those. I think you always look really pretty.” 

Danny swallowed. “Thanks, Ells.” 

Ell leaned in so close their faces were only an inch apart. “Hey, can I tell you a secret?” 

“ _Yes--_ I mean, um, yeah.” 

Ell stage whispered, “you see this purse? I lined the inside pocket with the plastic you use in ziplocs.” 

Danny’s brow furrowed. “Uh...” 

“I am going to steal _so much shrimp_ from Grandpa’s party.” 

“Oh yeah,” Carmilla said, “I forgot.” She looked at Laura, “Ell used to sneak food out of his parties all the time.” 

“...That’s great Ell, thanks. You’re not driving there, right?” 

Ell shook her head. “Nope. I’m walking back and then he’ll pick me up. In a _limousine._ Isn’t that cool?” 

“Yeah. Really cool. Have a good time.” 

Ell nodded. “I will! Bye guys!” 

She started to leave, but not before turning around and giving Danny a little wave. Danny waved back. As soon as Ell was out the door Danny ran a hand down her face. 

“She had a little too much,” Danny said, “it doesn’t mean anything if she was a little--” 

“Jesus, Red,” Carmilla groaned, “just make a move on her already.” 

Danny narrowed her eyes at Carmilla. “You’re just saying that because then _you_ don’t have to feel guilty about,” she made a vague motion to Carmilla and Laura, “doing _this_ to her.” 

Carmilla held up her hands. “Hey, I’m guilty. I want my best friend to be happy again and you seem to be pretty good at that.” 

Danny shoved her hands in her pockets, looking at the door wistfully. “...I can’t afford to give her rides in limos…” She mumbled, sighing and looking back. “I’ve got to give Mel a ride back. See you guys.” 

After Danny and Mel left (dragging the twins kicking and screaming away from the sweets), the rest of the party trickled out soon after.

“...What now?” Laura asked. 

“Well, let’s see,” Carmilla looked around the kitchen, “still have an appetite? We’ve got…cherry pie, apple pie, buttermilk pie--wait! We also have some cheesecake,” she held up the tin toward Laura, “just to add a little variety.” 

“I’ll have the cheesecake.” 

Carmilla placed the pie tin between them, sitting down next to Laura at the kitchen table. Laura grabbed her hand. “That was a really nice party.” 

She shrugged. “Eh, I baked some things and let everyone hang out for awhile. No big deal.” 

“Still.” Laura stuck her fork in the cheesecake, “before we finish this off, I think _I_ want to make a toast.” 

Carmilla groaned. “Cupcake, not _another_ one--” 

“Please?” 

“...You know the answer is yes, Laura, of course.” 

Laura bit her lip for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Before I had to live here I didn’t know how many stars I couldn’t see at night.” 

“Glad I could show you.” 

“I’m glad too,” Laura said softly, “I also didn’t know what it sounded like when everything at night was just _quiet_ except for the sound of crickets. Or what it’s like to see fireflies outside. I just...once I got used to it, I loved everything about Silas. But my favorite part is you.” 

Laura rubbed a thumb across Carmilla’s cheekbone, and she hummed appreciatively. She put an elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. “Aw, Cupcake, I’m flattered.” 

“I really, really like it here,” Laura said again. She shook her head and said, almost to herself, “enough to want to live here one day, even.” 

Carmilla felt her breath hitch. “Laura, what did you just say?” 

“I was just thinking,” Laura shrugged, looking away from her, “that’s all.” 

Part of Carmilla wanted to object. Part of her was afraid that Laura was only saying those things because she felt guilty. 

But Carmilla had a good day. A really good day. She did help Perry. She did do a lot to help the diner. People did care about her. And maybe she _did_ deserve to be happy, if nothing more than that. 

At least, she deserved one night where she didn’t second guess everything Laura said. So instead, Carmilla smiled, leaning in to kiss Laura softly. 

“You’re right,” Laura said, “there’s a lot to be said for good food with someone you care about.” 

“Well, especially when it’s _my_ food.” 

The moment was broken; Laura slapped Carmilla lightly on the arm; Carmilla rubbed it and pretended to look hurt. 

“You wound me, Hollis.” 

“Shut up, you narcissist. Point is; a toast to pie and us and how great Silas is and stuff.” 

“Right. To all of that.” 

Carmilla dug in. She kissed Laura after she ate a lot of different pies; but never cinnamon bun cheesecake. She was looking forward to it. 


	25. You Matter to Me

When Laura finally left, Carmilla collapsed into bed. She woke up in a fabulous mood even a stomachache from too much pie couldn't ruin. She got up and felt fantastic. She jumped in the shower and felt fantastic. She went downstairs and finished off some cold apple pie for breakfast and felt fantastic. 

In general, Carmilla was feeling pretty okay. When she answered her cellphone, she even gave a cheery, “What's up?” Instead of her usual grunt. 

_“...Wow, who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”_

“I'm not allowed to be in a good mood?” Carmilla asked. 

_“Sure, but not this early in the morning. You're not even that nice during normal hours.”_

Carmilla rolled her eyes affectionately. “Then why'd you call if you expected me to be an asshole?“

_“First of all, I'm used to you being an asshole--”_

“You are a jerk, go on,” Carmilla interrupted, clearly amused. 

_“--And second, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to have breakfast with me before you start your shift.“_

“Are you kidding? Breakfast sounds fantast--”

There was a knock on her door. “...Babe, I'm going to need to call you back.”

_“Okay. See you.”_

“Mm-hm.” She walked toward the door, opening it slightly. “...Who the frilly Hell are you?” 

He was a tall, gangly guy wearing glasses, a neatly tucked button down shirt, and tie. “Is this the Karnstein residence?” 

“Yes. Please answer my question. Who are you?” 

“Samuel Ellis. I work for the Health Department.” 

Carmilla narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to need some proof.” 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a wallet and flashing his ID out to Carmilla. It looked real. Carmilla begrudgingly stepped aside and opened the door for him. 

“Why does the Health Department care about my house?” 

“We had a complaint filed,” he answered. 

“It’s _my_ house. Why should anyone else care how I’m living in _my_ house?” 

“Can I see your kitchen?” 

Carmilla frowned. “...Why?” 

“The complaint was about food being sold here, commercially, without any local permits or licences.” 

Carmilla’s stomach dropped. Her eyes widened. “Oh. Uh…” 

There was no way to get out of it. As soon as he looked inside the kitchen he saw all of the boxes, ready to be shipped. He had a clipboard with him on which he started scribbling things down. 

“Have you applied for a food licence?” 

“No.” 

“Have you registered with the county health department?” 

“No.” 

“Permits for food service or preparation?” 

“No.” 

“Were you inspected by the local fire department--” 

“Look, can we just assume the answer is _no_ to all of these questions?” 

He inspected the kitchen--which was bad, she hadn’t really cleaned up that much after the party--and turned back toward her. 

“According to our complaint, you’ve been doing this since...the end of June, is that right?” 

Carmilla shrugged, leaning against the wall. The health inspector looked down at his clipboard, flipping a page, scanning everything he wrote down. 

“So these are some serious violations that are going to come with severe fines.” 

“Oh, you have _got_ to be fucking kidding me,” Carmilla groaned. 

Which was probably not the best thing to say to the man that would decide how much money this would cost. 

***

Perry didn’t say anything for a long time, which was...disconcerting, to say the least. 

“Look, Perry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Laura said. They were stuck in their cramped office space. LaFontaine had a hand on Perry's shoulder; she was sitting behind her desk, staring down at the notice from the health inspector. “If I had known you needed all of this stuff, of course I would have told you.”

“...This is a lot of money,” Perry said. 

“Yeah, this fine is going to set us back,” LaFontaine agreed.

“It's not just that,” Perry answered, “we'll need more money if we want all of these permits and inspections. Carmilla can't cook in her kitchen anymore. And--and we need to refund all of the orders Carmilla didn't ship yet. That's going to be so expensive…”

Carmilla raked her fingers through her hair, biting the inside of her cheek. “What I want to know is who called the fucking _health department_ on us.”

“Yeah,” Laura said, “it isn't like we were going around telling everyone we were baking at Carmilla’s house. And all the social media is done here, too.”

“So the only people who knew were our employ--" Perry stopped. Her eyes widened and she stood up suddenly, slamming her hands on the desk. 

_“ELL!”_

Perry clenched the notice in her fist, pushing past Carmilla and Laura. LaFontaine, Laura, and Carmilla looked at each other for a moment before running out after her. 

“Whoa, honey, let’s not get carried away--” 

“Perry, come on--” 

“Curly if you do anything to my friend I will _kill you!”_

“Hey, that’s my _wife.”_

The commotion didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the staff. Kirsch, Elsie, and Danny left the kitchen to see what was going on. Betty looked up from the corner where she had been filing her nails. Ell was at the register, cleaning and holding an ice pack to her head. 

“Ell, we need to talk _now,”_ Perry said. 

Ell blinked, looking at Perry. “Am I late?” She asked, “I’m sorry, I think I slept in; I have such a headache...but a hangover is no excuse, it’s my fault--” 

Perry shoved the notice in her face. “ _Explain this.”_

“...That is a crumpled up ball of paper?” 

Perry uncrumpled it, ripping it slightly in the process, shoving it in Ell’s face again. “Can you read it _now?”_

Ell’s eyes flitted back and forth quickly as she read the notice, looking increasingly perturbed. When she finished, Ell covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Oh my God Perry, I’m so sorry. That’s awful--” 

“Don’t pretend you care!” 

Ell’s shoulders raised. “What...what do you mean?” 

“What did you tell your grandfather?” 

Realization crossed Ell’s face, and she looked horrified when she replied, “Perry, I didn’t want him to--” 

“Did you. Tell Vordenberg.” 

“Well--well yes, but I didn’t want him to do _this!_ He was showing me to his friends, bragging about me, asking me to explain our business model. It was just a _conversation._ I didn’t know we were violating anything! None of us did!” 

“Do you really think I am going to believe that? _You_ are the one from the rich business family. _You_ are the one who should have known this. But instead you told _him._ You knew he wanted to buy us out and you gave him all the information he wanted.” 

“I was just helping with the numbers. I thought Laura took care of it!” Ell looked at her. “I thought you were doing that. I didn’t think--” 

“Of course you didn’t think,” Perry answered, starting to pace back and forth, “You don't have people who depend on you--”

(Ell’s eyes locked with Danny's for a moment; Danny shook her head silently.)

“--you have always had your Grandpa to take care of you. You don't understand how important this is to _us_ , because to your family this diner was just another _investment_ you could drop whenever you wanted. Well it’s not. It isn’t and you don’t seem to understand that, if you are getting drunk and telling Vordenberg whatever he wants.”

Ell stayed silent, flinching a little behind the safety of her register. Carmilla knew Ell well enough to know that she was soaking up everything Perry said like a sponge. 

“Perry, calm down--” 

“I will _not_ calm down! She ruined the business that has been in my family for seventy years, and now we’re going to have to--to--” Perry swallowed and managed to choke out, _“sell.”_

Everyone started shouting at once. 

“Wait, dude, _sell?”_

“You can’t be serious, Perry, we can’t give up now!” Laura exclaimed, “there has to be something we can do!” 

“Laura, I went over the budget three times,” LaFontaine answered, “we don’t have enough money to pay these fines, and even if we _did,_ we can’t afford the permits and inspections to use Carmilla’s house, and we can’t do all of that extra baking in the kitchen. The online business is going to have to close down, and that’s what was making us profitable.” 

Danny moved closer to Ell, biting her lip. “Ell, you didn’t--” 

“I should have known better,” Perry snapped. “You can go back to being an heiress who is _so upset_ about having to be _rich_ while the rest of us worry about how we’re going to pay our bills.” 

Ell looked away from Danny’s soft, worried gaze, getting out from behind the register. 

“Perry...everyone…” Ell backed up until she hit the front door. “I’m...I’m so sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

She fumbled with the door handle before finally turning around and leaving. Everyone was looking at Perry uncomfortably. Perry was breathing heavily, slowly crossing her arms. 

Danny spoke first. 

“Is that it?” Danny balled her fists, licked her lips. “Perry, what the fuck was that?”

“Ell--” 

“No. _No._ You know what? I would have been pissed if you just yelled at her. That would have been bad enough. But you made this about _me._ ‘People that depend on you?’ Really? And you all let Perry lay into her like that?” She turned on Carmilla. “Aren’t you supposed to be her best friend or something?” 

Carmilla held up her hands. “I tried to tell Perry to calm down!” 

Danny shook her head, “Perry, I am taking the day off.” 

She went to grab her coat from the kitchen, throwing it on. She walked out and looked at Perry again. 

“You do not get to tell Ell she doesn’t have to worry about anything,” she said, “you have _no fucking idea_ what Ell has been through. You have no idea what kind of person she is. And I am tired of everyone treating her like she’s some suspicious double agent because her family happens to make a few extra dollars.” 

She shook her head in disgust. “I’m going to go look for her.”

Danny slipped out the door. Carmilla looked at Perry. 

“...What she said.”

Carmilla rolled up her sleeves. Ell was her best friend. She’d want her there. Carmilla was going after her. 

“Laura, I’ll be back,” Carmilla said. Laura looked kind of dazed. 

“...Right. I’ll see you in a second.” 

Carmilla walked out of the diner, closing the door behind her. “Hey Cinna--” She stopped. 

Ell and Danny were standing in the middle of the parking lot. Ell looked like she had started to cry; she was shaking her head, eyes shut tight. Danny had a light grip on Ell’s forearms, which were raised in front of her face protectively. She was whispering something Carmilla couldn’t hear. All at once Ell’s tenseness collapsed in on itself, and Danny tucked Ell’s head under her chin, holding her close. 

It looked...really personal. Carmilla almost felt guilty watching it happen. She ducked back into the diner before either of them noticed. 

Everything was quiet. It was the awkward silence of a building full of people, all debating whether it was appropriate to say anything and deciding to bite their tongues. Perry and LaFontaine were gone, presumably to start arranging a meeting with Vordenberg. 

“Carm?” 

She looked at Laura. 

“Is Ell okay…?” 

Carmilla ran a hand down her face. “Uh...Red is handling it.”

Probably better than Carmilla would have.

Laura, put her arms around Carmilla’s waist, kissing her cheek. 

“Carm, I have to go.” 

She looked worried for a moment before Laura added hastily, “no, _no,_ I don’t mean that like you did anything wrong. I’ll come by your place tonight okay?”

Carmilla sighed. “...Okay.”

Laura gave Carmilla another kiss and left. Carmilla spent the day in a bad mood even a kiss from Laura couldn't fix. 

***

“Have you heard from Ell?” Laura asked. 

Carmilla sighed. Laura was laying with her head in Carmilla’s lap on her couch, Carmilla petting her hair gently. 

“...I called. She didn't pick up.”

“That's kind of worrying.”

Carmilla shrugged. “Not really. Danny answered.”

“Danny?” 

“And said in no uncertain terms that Ell wasn’t up for talking to anyone,” Carmilla said, annoyance starting to shine through in her voice. Laura raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you _jealous?”_

Carmilla was about to answer when Laura added, “and no, I don’t mean like, romantically.” 

She frowned a little. “...She is my best friend,” Carmilla said, “I should be there. I should be trying to make her feel better.” 

Carmilla had just started trying to make amends for always putting her feelings before Ell’s for years; and of course as soon as she tried to be a better friend Danny swooped in being all _understanding_ and _nice._

Laura bit her lip. She didn’t say anything, seemingly lost in thought. 

“Cupcake?” 

“...This is my fault,” Laura said softly. Carmilla blinked. 

“Wait, _what?_ Laura, of course it isn--” 

“Yes it _is,”_ Laura sat up. “It was my idea to start selling online. It was my idea to start baking at your house to fill orders. It was _my_ idea to keep it at your house. All of it was _my idea,_ and I missed something so huge and important...and now Ell is the one getting blamed for _my mistake._ ” 

“Okay Laura, cut it out,” Carmilla said. She folded her hands in her lap. “Unless you told Vordenberg to call the health department, this isn’t Ell’s fault _or_ your fault. It is Vordenberg’s. Because he is a douche.” 

“But because I had to come up with my brilliant plan Perry and LaFontaine are even worse off than when I got here--” 

“Maybe that’s true. It probably is.” 

Laura blinked. “Wow, Carm, that helps.” 

“I’m not going to lie, Cupcake,” Carmilla answered, “but that doesn’t make you doing it a _bad_ thing.” 

“I should have never been here,” Laura mumbled. She looked at Carmilla. “I made Perry and LaFontaine lose their business and now Betty lost her job, Kirsch, Elsie, Danny, _Ell._ And you…” Laura wiped at her eyes, “I came in and now it’s just like you said, I’m going to go back to my cushy life in New York and you’re all stuck here having to live with the consequences of my meddling and screwing up--” 

“Laura, _shut up,”_ Carmilla snapped. Laura flinched, and Carmilla softened. “I...I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” she said. She blew out a breath. “Laura. Look at me. Before I met you I used my life, how I was living as an excuse to act like nothing I did mattered. I used it to justify why I was so miserable so I wouldn’t have to do anything about it. Until this,” Carmilla gestured vaguely at Laura with a soft smile, “prissy little New Yorker came in, with her thick accent, and her big plans for a diner she didn’t even work at, because even if it meant something to a handful of people, it mattered enough to help. _We_ mattered enough to help. Even me, the miserable jackass who didn’t care about anything.” 

Carmilla paused. “...So yeah. Okay. You meddled. Maybe you shouldn’t have. And some people ended up getting hurt. You are a meddler and too involved sometimes, but Laura, it is because you _care._ And God, it is just beautiful, how hard you tried because you just _care._ ” 

Laura didn’t say anything. Carmilla started to fidget uncomfortably. “...Uh, Laura? Am I in violation of the ‘light and casual’ rule with that, because if it was an overstep--” 

“Oh my God, Carmilla, _to Hell with light and casual.”_

Laura grabbed Carmilla’s face in her hands, pulling her in for a kiss that left Carmilla gasping for breath when Laura finally pulled away so they could both breathe. 

(Not that Carmilla wanted her to; if this was how she died, it was a pretty damn good way to go.) 

“I don’t want to be light and casual with you,” Laura said fiercely, “I don’t want to keep pretending that my feelings for you are this cute little, frothy summer fling when it feels like the most important--like _you’re_ the most important--thing that has ever happened to me. And yeah,” Laura gently tucked a strand of hair behind Carmilla’s ear, smiling through tears, “we can keep talking ourselves out of it because it’s scary. It means having to make a detour in this perfect path I was following for my life. It means doing long distance and that could very likely be a _disaster_ and a month from now we’ll break up anyway. But if we can’t survive that, if this is all we have, I want it to be as good as it can be.” 

Laura fought to say the next words. She wanted to, _so badly,_ but it felt like a heavy weight on her tongue that she had to push out. But she was ready. “...I love you,” she managed to whisper, “why shouldn’t that be something good? Why shouldn’t we _fight_ for that instead of just giving this up?” 

Carmilla pressed their foreheads together. Took a moment to try and anchor herself with the sound of Laura’s breath, because she couldn’t believe this was really happening. That Laura was telling Carmilla she wanted _this,_ wanted _her,_ permanently if she could help it. 

So of course she made a joke. 

“...If I recall, I was totally willing to say I love you, Cupcake,” she said, smirking, “you’re the one that was talking yourself out of it.” Laura rolled her eyes. 

“Okay, yes.” 

“Can we just take a brief moment to appreciate the irony that I, the child of a broken home, am _not_ the one with the commitment issues--” 

“Are you going to keep teasing me or are we going to kiss?” 

Carmilla shook her head, kissing Laura again; for a moment they pushed against each other until Carmilla relented, letting Laura press her down against the couch. 

“I feel really weird about the timing of this, when our friends are probably miserable right now,” Laura mumbled against Carmilla’s lips. 

“I mean yeah,” Carmilla answered, wrapping her arms around Laura to hold her close, “but if I’m about to lose the job I’ve had my entire life, I’m not going to turn down something _good_ happening to me.”

Laura slowed. She gently ran a hand through Carmilla’s hair. “You’re going to be fine, you know,” she answered, “you are like, the smartest, most talented person I know.” 

“That is not true, you go to med school.” 

“And my friends from school are not half as thoughtful as you.” 

Carmilla smiled. “That is really sweet, Laura,” her eyes darkened and she licked her lips, deciding the direct approach would be best. “...but I would like you to stop talking and take my shirt off.” 

Laura’s face turned about three shades darker. “Wh- _what?_ Are you sure…?” Laura sat up, her knees on either side of Carmilla’s hips. “I mean this is a big deal...unless you don’t want it to be! And not that it has to lead to...to _other_ things, but even just doing _that_ is...well, more intimate than we’ve been.” 

“You said some pretty romantic shit, Laura. I think you earned the right to see that tattoo.” 

Laura looked absolutely shocked. “O-okay. Doing that now.” 

She paused for a moment with her thumbs hooked under the hem of Carmilla’s shirt, before finally pulling up, locking eyes with Carmilla. She lifted her arms, sitting up long enough to get it off before Laura flung it away haphazardly. Carmilla laid back down. 

“Well…?” 

She was self conscious; of course she was. Laura was staring at her, mouth agape without saying a word. Finally she managed to say: 

“You’re wearing a _pink_ bra?” 

“...Really? _That’s_ what you care about? Not the tattoo on my freaking ribs?” 

“Oh! Oh! Of course I notice...I mean wow, Carm,” Laura looked down at it; a tribal tattoo of a panther, clawing its way up Carmilla’s side. “That must have _hurt.”_

“Like a bitch,” Carmilla agreed, “my dad has one like it.” 

“You got the same tattoo as your dad?” 

Carmilla looked away from her for a moment. “My mom and I got into a fight and she said I reminded her of him and it scared her,” Carmilla answered, “so I went with Ell and got the same tattoo as him just to piss her off.” 

“Well,” Laura answered, “I love it.” She gently ran a finger down the ink and Carmilla shuddered. “Oh wow, you’re ticklish; this moment is everything I thought it would be.” 

“Cupcake,” Carmilla drawled, “I can see that look in your eye, and I really hope you won’t ruin where this night is heading because you can’t resist the urge to _tickle_ me.” 

“And...you are sure that is where you want this night to head?” Laura asked tentatively. Carmilla’s fingers toyed with the hem of Laura’s shirt, thumb brushing across her skin. 

“I love you; you love me. You apparently cannot _stand_ the thought of breaking up with me,” she answered, “I don’t really see why not.” 

“Then we need to get up.” 

“Wait, _what?”_ Carmilla gave a little whine of disapproval when Laura stood up. 

“You heard me.” 

“Why? I really liked the couch. It is comfortable.” 

Laura grabbed Carmilla’s wrist, pulling her up. 

“Because our first time is not going to be on your _couch,”_ Laura answered, “our first time, and more importantly _your_ first, is going to be in a nice comfy bed with blankets and pillows. With hand holding and stuff. It will be _romantic._ Couches are not romantic. I mean we can definitely revisit the couch. But it is not where this is going to happen.” 

Carmilla smiled. “As long as I can hold you to that promise of revisiting the couch.” 

“Oh God, why am I the one all blushy and embarrassed,” Laura groaned, trying to take off her shirt and walk backwards toward Carmilla’s room at the same time, “ _you_ should be the one that is nervous.” 

“Please, we both know I am going to be fantastic,” Carmilla helped Laura unbutton her shirt and slid it smoothly off her shoulders. She had to look back for a moment and, amazingly, neither of them fell on their way up the stairs. Laura decided talking was a little less important than kissing, at the moment, so she didn’t answer. Carmilla let Laura back her up, until they were in her room and her knees hit the back of the bed. 

When Carmilla laid down, and Laura was looking at her, she changed her mind about talking. 

And Carmilla definitely looked like she changed her mind about being nervous. 

“...So this might hurt a little at first,” Laura said softly, “please let me know if it does.” 

“Right,” Carmilla breathed. 

“And if _anything_ makes you uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll stop. You don’t owe me anything just because I said I love you.” 

“Laura,” Carmilla leaned her head up to kiss her again, “how could I not want this with you? I promise. I just really, really want to be with you right now.” 

Laura nodded. “Okay. Alright.” 

Her mind was swimming with so many options for what she could do next; there were so many parts of Carmilla she hadn’t really explored yet that she couldn’t decide where to go first; but her eyes fell on her tattoo again, and Laura finally bent down to kiss it gently. 

“God, I love you,” Laura said, “and it feels really good to say it now.” 

Carmilla sighed, gently running her fingers through Laura’s hair. Laura could feel the tenseness radiating off of her skin, nerves that she was trying hard not to show. So Laura lingered. She kissed every inch of Carmilla’s torso until she could feel her relax, breath even and deep save for the occasional hitch when Laura hit a particularly sensitive spot. 

When Laura’s mouth started to travel lower, fingers hooking into the loops of Carmilla’s jeans, she felt the hand in her hair tighten its grip. 

***

Carmilla’s eyes cracked open, vision slightly blurry. She rubbed them, sitting up, stretching her arms and yawning.

No Laura next to her, but Carmilla wasn’t worried. She was a morning person, by her own admission to Carmilla. She was probably calling her grandmother or something. 

No, what _did_ give Carmilla pause was the burning smell. 

“WAIT WHAT IS THAT.” 

She jumped out of bed, running down the stairs. She almost tripped, but she sighed with relief when she didn’t see anything on fire in the kitchen. She poured a cup of coffee. 

“Hey Cupcake, what was with the smell of--” 

Carmilla looked at Laura and froze. 

Laura was doing yoga. 

Laura was wearing nothing but shorts and a bra, doing _yoga,_ in her _living room._

“...Oh, hey Carm, morning,” Laura said, standing on her head and opening her legs wide, “sorry about the burning smell, um...I made pancakes. Or, well, I tried. Are you in the mood to make pancakes?” 

Carmilla had _just enough_ presence of mind to put the cup down. 

“Carmilla?” 

“I am dead,” Carmilla stated, “I rolled out of bed at some point last night, hit my head, and died. I have to be in Heaven right now.” 

Laura sat back up. When she looked at Carmilla her face turned red. “...I could say the same thing right now.” 

Carmilla looked down at herself. Right. Clothes. She’d forgotten them in her haste to see if her house was burning down. “What can I say, it’s a good look for me,” she answered, shrugging. But Carmilla _was_ hungry, and clothes were generally a necessity when working with fire. She grabbed a shirt from the laundry room, slipping it on. “If you want pancakes, I’ll make them.” 

“You are the _best.”_

“I know.” 

She grinned at Laura, who rolled her eyes affectionately, before Carmilla started mixing the ingredients. Laura sidled up behind Carmilla while she was mixing, watching her stir. 

“Carm…?” 

“Yes?” 

“Last night was okay, right?” 

Carmilla looked at Laura over her shoulder. “You’re kidding, right?” 

Sure, it had hurt a little, at some points. But Laura had been gentle, been patient, held Carmilla afterward, and of course had a lot of ‘I Love Yous’ sprinkled liberally throughout. Laura had been the perfect gentlewoman. She kissed Laura softly. 

“...Still scared?” Carmilla asked, looking back down at her bowl. Laura rested her chin on Carmilla’s shoulder. 

“A little,” she admitted, “actually a lot. But not _bad_ scared, exactly? It’s like skydiving scared. Excited scared.” 

Carmilla poured the new pancake batter onto the griddle. Her phone rang and Laura answered it for her. 

“Hello? Betty? Carmilla, it's Betty.”

“What's she want?”

Laura frowned a little. “Sorry she's late, Betty, we uh...slept in.”

She put the phone on speaker. _“Wait, you spent the night at Carmilla’s?”_

“Yes, Betty, she did,” Carmilla remarked. 

_“Nice.”_

Laura’s face heated up. “Can we not talk about that?” 

_“Fine. Carmilla, Perry may be selling the diner, but as of now we both still work here and I would appreciate if you, y’know, threw some clothes on and came to work.”_

“First of all, I am wearing clothes, Betty--” 

“Well--” 

“A shirt is clothes, Laura, shut up.” 

_“Will you stop being gross--in the literal way, by the way, not the cute couple kind of way--and get down here?”_

“Fine, fine. I will.” 

Carmilla took the pancakes off the griddle. Laura hung up the phone. 

“Ooooh, those look really good.” 

“They’re nothing special, Cupcake, they’re just pancakes.” 

“But they’re _your_ pancakes.” 

She grabbed a fork from Carmilla’s drawer, sitting down at the table. Carmilla pouted. 

“What, Carm?” 

She sat down next to Laura, resting her chin in her hand. She looked down at the plate and back at her. 

“...You are not suggesting I feed you, are you?” 

“I’m just saying, after last night I think I deserve to be fed pancakes. I thought I did a pretty good job for a beginner.” 

Laura rolled her eyes again, but she grabbed her fork. “Fine.” 

As soon as Carmilla took a bite Laura added, “and I mean you did _okay._ I mean, it’s okay if you don’t get everything right the first time, _obviously._ ” 

Carmilla paused with her mouth full, raising an eyebrow at her. She swallowed. “What is that supposed to mean…?” 

“I don’t know,” Laura answered, focusing on her plate. Carmilla gasped. 

“Cupcake, you were _not_ faking. You were not fucking faking. I think I would know if you were faking.” 

“You sure about that, Harry?” 

“Don’t joke about that!” 

“I mean I didn’t want to discourage you…and I never said I _did,_ you’re just assuming that--” 

“ _Were you faking or not.”_

Laura shrugged, smirking a little. “I had a really good time.” 

“You are such an asshole.” 

“But you love me,” Laura answered, looking at Carmilla again with a smug grin, “not _my_ fault you choose to put up with it.” 

Carmilla cracked, laughing softly down at the table as she ran a hand down Laura’s knee. 


	26. Aunt Mel

The mood at the diner was understandably pretty somber. Carmilla walked inside and wanted to ask where the casket was, since everyone working there was milling about silently as if they were at a wake.

“Betty, did you really need to send me this video?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Carmilla showed Betty her phone. “You sent me a link to ‘I Just Had Sex?’” 

Betty grinned, raising her hand for a fist bump. Carmilla rolled her eyes, but humored her. “How is Perry holding up?” 

“I heard Vordenberg is showing up later with his lawyers,” Betty answered, “Perry hasn’t thrown anything, which is a good sign. I feel bad for LaF though. They have to take over Ell’s job now.” 

“...I take it she’s fired?” 

“If not, she quit.” 

Carmilla sighed, leaning against the counter. Betty copied her. “Where is Red?” Carmilla asked. 

“In the kitchen. I wouldn’t talk to her, she seems pretty pissed.” 

Carmilla sighed. “I’m going to go ask how Ell is doing. Laura is over in the corner, can you make sure she gets a slice of pecan pie?” 

“If you want to ignore my warning,” Betty gave a mock salute, “be my guest. Your funeral.” 

Carmilla walked into the kitchen, spotting Danny in the corner. Kirsch and Elsie were giving her a wide berth. 

“Hey, Danny?” 

Danny looked up from the stove. “...Oh. Carmilla. Hey.” 

“You were with Ell yesterday, right?” 

“She slept on my couch,” she answered, cutting vegetables, “she’s still there, watching the twins.” 

Carmilla walked closer. “How is she…?” 

Danny stopped for a moment. She looked at Carmilla.

“Look,” Danny said, lowering her voice, “Ell is pretty hurt and pretty devastated.” 

“Unsurprising.” 

“That stupid fucking douchebag,” Danny grabbed her knife again--Danny really seemed to love using her knife when she was upset--cutting a green pepper into pieces. “If I get my hands on Vordenberg, I am going to _kill him._ ” 

“Okay, don’t take it out on the vegetables, Red,” Carmilla said gently. 

“He is trying to get to her and it pisses me off. Calling her and telling her she’s better off with him, like she’s still some stupid _kid--_ ” 

“Whoa, wait, he called her?” 

Danny bit her lip. “...She told me not to say anything.” 

“Tough, you are not keeping this a secret.”

Danny didn't fight her on it, probably out of her own selfish desire to share the information with somebody. “Vordenberg offered her an internship, pretty much? He wants her to move back to Lustig with him.”

“That's not new.”

“Except she might _do_ it. She might actually leave again and I will barely see her, all because people have to be judgemental idiots--”

She flinched, nicking her finger with her knife. She quickly threw on a glove from a dispenser hanging from the wall.

“Shit, I’m going to have to throw all this out--” 

“Red, you couldn’t have used those vegetables anyway, you minced them until they pretty much became dust.” 

Danny sighed, wiping the cutting board. “...I just want Ell to be happy,” she said, “she is seriously the kindest woman I’ve ever met--and I mean Tucker and Annie love her. I would just _miss_ her--” 

“Have you tried _telling_ her that?” 

She blinked. “Of course Ell knows I’d want her to stay.” 

“But have you told her _why?”_ Carmilla asked pointedly. 

“What do you--oh come _on,”_ Danny rolled her eyes, “stop doing looking at me like that.” 

“Danny, you and Ell are practically married. Come on. You’re good for her.” 

“Sure, the woman who was in love with _you_ ,” Danny grumbled, opening the refrigerator.

“Ell liked me because we were friends and I didn’t treat her like I assumed she was a spoiled rich kid,” Carmilla answered, “Danny, come on, the worst that can happen is she--” 

“Doesn’t like me like that? And makes things awkward? Or even worse, she _does--_ I mean just hypothetically--” Danny grabbed more vegetables, “and we start dating. And one day she inherits all her family’s money. And what then? She’s going to stay with some poor line cook raising two kids? Or we don’t even last that long. And we go back to not speaking. I can’t do that to Tucker and Annie, they love her,” she shook her head, “I am not risking it, especially when the odds are so freaking stacked. I’d rather take having Ell occasionally when she can visit than not at all.” 

Carmilla sighed. “Let Laura look at your hand when she gets here, at least?”

“Fine, thanks. I'm going to go grab a bandaid.”

She walked away and Carmilla went back to the front of the restaurant. 

“Everything is a fucking _mess_ ,” Carmilla groaned, leaning against the counter. Betty shrugged. 

“If you win that pie contest, you better give me some of that money,” she said. 

Right. The pie contest.

And no job keeping her here.

And a girlfriend that was moving away…

“If I have any left over,” she replied, and Betty rolled her eyes. 

“You're such an ass Karnstein--"

The front door _dinged._

“Hello--” Mel froze in the doorway and locked eyes with Carmilla and Betty. “Uh...hey. Can we talk?”

For a moment no one said anything. LaFontaine spoke first, getting out from behind the register. 

_“Get her!_ ”

***

“Guys, we cannot _kidnap_ Vordenberg’s lawyer!”

They'd brought Mel into the kitchen; and Mel wasn't tied up, but she was forced into a chair with a group of people staring her down. Mel was looking more annoyed than scared, looking at all of them with an unamused expression. Every time she tried to speak they told her to shut up, so she stayed silent. 

“Laura, what is worse?” Betty asked, “holding her hostage, or taking the diner?”

“Holding her hostage!” Laura answered without hesitation. 

“But can't we at least throw a pie in her face or something?” Elsie suggested. 

“Or like, just some whipped cream,” Kirsch added. 

“Guys, I get Mel is not your favorite person right now,” Laura said gently, “But Vordenberg already thinks you're all like..stupid and uncivilized. This is just going to prove him right!”

“Might as well be hanged for a lion as a lamb,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“ _Not_ helping,” Laura said. 

“Guys--” Mel started.

“Not now Mel,” Elsie snapped. 

“Danny, she's your friend, come on!”

She ran a hand through her hair and said, reluctantly, “look, guys, I'm not happy with Mel either. But I was in law school too, guys. Mel was just doing her job. Besides, we can’t keep her.”

“We can totally keep her,” Elsie answered, “just until she...like...tells us everything she knows!” 

Danny looked at her. “No, guys, I mean you literally will not be able to. I was in an athletic sorority with her. She met her ex girlfriend at the gym because they were both taking an advanced kickboxing class. Trust me. If she wanted to go she would have by now.” 

“Danny is right,” Mel interrupted. 

Everyone looked at each other. 

“Huddle up!” Carmilla exclaimed, “you, cover your ears.” 

Mel rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. Everyone huddled around Carmilla. 

“Listen guys, Laura and Danny are right, we can’t keep her here against her will,” Carmilla cut in on their noises of disappointment, _“but,_ if she’s here, we might as well get some information out of her.” 

“Like what?” Laura asked. 

“I don’t know. Strategy. Some embarrassing secrets Vordenberg told her--” 

“What do you think lawyers talk about with their clients, Carmilla?” Danny asked. “And what are you going to do? Do you really think threatening her with a pie in the face will make her break the sacred rule of lawyer ethics?” 

“The _point_ is, she has to know something that could help us. Right?” 

Everyone looked at each other. Laura sighed. 

“...Guys, if we’re going to do this, we need to girl the hell up. _United front._ Because honestly Mel kind of terrifies me, as I’m sure she does most of you.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement. 

“Are we ready?” 

“BREAK!”

“Okay Mel,” Carmilla said, “you obviously came on some mission of Vordenberg’s, so tell us what his message is. But then we're going to ask some questions _of our own._ We have kitchen utensils. A _lot_ of them. And we are not afraid to use them. So start talking.”

Mel didn't say anything for a moment. She seemed to be trying to keep her composure. 

“I recused myself,” Mel said slowly, “you _dumbasses.”_

Carmilla blinked. “ _What?”_

“Well, in dumbass terms, that would mean ‘Mel no work for old crazy man no more.’"

“We _know_ what it means,” Betty snapped, “why didn't say that?”

“I don't know, maybe because you wouldn't let me talk while you were debating the merits of tying me up and locking me in a fucking broom closet?”

Everyone deflated rather quickly. 

“...Oh. Well. Thanks. Why…?”

“Because Vordenberg is an asshole. Him and Theo are quite the pair, let me tell you. I can't stand them anymore. So I recused myself.”

“Okay, but that doesn't explain why you chose _now,”_ Danny said, “you've been working with them all summer, and Perry is about to sell. You just needed to lay a few more weeks.”

“Well…” Mel mumbled something. 

“Huh?”

“Dammit, I'm Aunt Mel,” she said gruffly, “I didn't want to be responsible for getting you fired, okay? It was one thing when it was a friend from college, but now I’m Aunt fucking Mel and I can't go through with it.”

Mel glared at them all, daring them to laugh. “Contrary to popular belief a lawyer _can_ have a conscience, you know.”

“Guys, stop crowding her,” Laura said. Everyone backed up. Mel stood, maneuvering so she could lean on the back of the chair. 

“So...are you here to help us then?” Danny asked. 

“Look,” Mel said, “your friend screwed up telling Vordenberg about your setup and that's on her. And frankly? He should have called the health department on you.” Mel looked at Carmilla. “I was at your house. You are not the cleanest person in the world, no offense. This fuck up was most definitely a team effort.”

“Is _that_ what you came to tell us?” LaFontaine asked, “because if it is, the door is that way--” 

“What I came to do was say that I can't do anything about the health code violations, you earned those. But I _do_ want to take a look at your records. I just...have a feeling there might be something there.”

“And that something _is?”_ Laura insisted. 

“I was working for him, I need to be really careful about what I tell you. But he seemed, I mean…” Mel’s brow furrowed. She shook her head. “I really just think it’d be a good idea.” 

“So we look at all their paperwork,” Carmilla ran a hand through her hair, “I guess...we go talk to Perry and LaFontaine then?” 

“Let’s.” Mel started to walk away when Danny grabbed her, pulling her in for a hug. Mel tensed up. 

“Mel, _thank you.”_

“Yeah,” Mel said curtly, “uh, well, you know. Once a Summer always a Summer. And not that we aren’t friends, but _please_ let go.” 

“Right. Sorry.” Danny did. Mel walked out and Danny looked at the others. 

“Uh, Summer Society. Was the sorority we both pledged.” 

“...I cannot believe your brother and sister are so cute they guilted _her_ into helping us,” LaFontaine said.

“What can I say?” Danny ran a hand through her hair, smiling, “we all have really good genes.” 

***

“No, no, absolutely _not.”_

“Come on Perr, why _not?”_

Carmilla, having worked there the longest, was given the job of relaying Perry’s decision. The entire staff plus Laura and Mel were not going to squeeze themselves into the glorified broom closet of an office. She leaned her body against the door, watching LaFontaine put their hands on Perry’s desk while Perry looked down at her papers. 

“Because there is absolutely nothing we can do.” 

“That isn’t true,” Carmilla interrupted, “we have a lawyer helping us now, she wouldn’t be asking to do this for us if there wasn’t something--” 

“I may not have gone to law school, but I think if there were a solution it would occur to me,” Perry answered, “unless Mel can find a loophole that would give us several thousand dollars, this diner is closing at the end of the summer whether we sell it or not.” 

“And what’s selling it going to do?” LaFontaine said, “Perry, what are you going to tell your parents? You’re seriously going to keep them in the dark forever?” 

“Not _forever_ ,” Perry answered, “until Christmas, when they visit from Florida, and hopefully then I will have found some suitable new career to soften the blow for them.” 

“This doesn’t have to mean anything though, Perry. What is the harm in having her look? You can still meet with Vordenberg.” 

Perry took off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. “I will tell you what the harm is,” Perry answered, “suppose Mel did find something that could save the diner. What then? We close again six months from now? And then there won’t be anyone making an offer. Well I won’t let that happen. I’m selling it _now,_ because I am responsible, and I owe it to the people that work for me to negotiate the best deal I can for them.” 

“As an employee, let me just say, you are not doing us any favors Perry,” Carmilla said. 

“I am not discussing this,” Perry answered, “Vordenberg is going to be here any minute and I need to prepare myself. LaFontaine, I need you to stay, but Carmilla, you need to _go.”_

Carmilla gave Perry what she thought was her best death-glare, slamming the door behind her. 

“Fucking useless,” Carmilla grumbled, still looking back at the door, “sorry guys, Perry is saying it's a no go--”

Carmilla looked back and realized she was face to face with her best friend. 

“-- _Ell?”_

She was wearing a pencil skirt and blouse, flanked on either side by Theo and someone Carmilla didn’t recognize. Ell swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. 

“...Hey, Carm.”

Everyone else was sticking to the other side of the kitchen. Carmilla crossed her arms.

“Who are your friends?” 

“I...wouldn’t really call them _friends--_ ” 

“Will Luce,” the guy Carmilla didn’t recognize shook her hand, “one of Vordenberg’s lawyers recused herself so I’m working in her place.” 

“William’s father owns the firm,” Theo added, “I’m confident he’ll be better than Mel anyway.” 

Behind her, Carmilla thought she heard a huff. If Theo noticed Mel there--or really anyone but Carmilla--he was pointedly ignoring her, Will following his lead. 

“Ell, what are you doing?” Carmilla asked. 

“I’m not doing anything. I’m just kind of...observing, I guess.” 

“ _Observing?”_

“Miss Abbott is learning how to conduct business negotiations by observing her grandfather,” Theo answered, “if you’ll excuse us?” 

Carmilla glared at them, but stepped aside. When Vordenberg walked in, Carmilla grabbed a can of whipped cream from the counter, thumb against the nozzle. Laura put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Carm, wait,” Laura whispered. Carmilla sighed. 

“Fine--” 

Laura grabbed it from her, marching up to Vordenberg. “Mr. Vordenberg?” 

“Miss Holl--” 

_Ssssssssss!_

“...Welcome back.” 

“God I love you,” Carmilla said, looking at Laura with awe. 

Vordenberg blinked and, with as much dignity as he could, said, “Eloise, will you please bring me a napkin.” 

“Okay Grandpa.” 

Ell grabbed a napkin from the counter; Danny was close to her, and Ell locked eyes with her for a moment before tearing her gaze away and handing her grandfather the napkin. 

“Well, this has been quite fun,” he said, wiping his face, “but I have business to attend to.”

“...Bye guys,” Ell said, waving awkwardly before following them inside. 

“Way to steal my idea, Cupcake,” Carmilla said, smirking at her. Laura shook her head. 

“I don’t work here,” Laura said, “I can’t get in that much trouble. _You_ can.”

Carmilla wrapped her arms around Laura’s waist and kissed her cheek. She looked at the others. “We should probably get back to work, guys.” 

Betty slinked away. No one else moved. 

“Seriously guys?” 

“Uh, Carmilla, this is the kitchen. We all _work_ in the kitchen,” Kirsch pointed out. 

Carmilla blinked. 

“...Right. Mel? Thanks for offering to help. Sorry it was a bust.” 

Mel shrugged. “Honestly? This just means I get to _go home._ Don’t worry too much.” She looked at Danny and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. “See you, Danny.” 

“Sure.” 

“Hey!” Elsie ran up to her. She handed her a small square of stiff paper. Mel’s brow furrowed when she looked at it. 

“...’Elsie, Queen of Swaghilia.’ You have a...business card?” 

“Important people have business cards,” Elsie said with a wink, “call me if you want to get dinner before you leave.” 

“Riiiiiight,” Mel said, looking Elsie up and down, “I’ll think about it.” 

When Elsie turned away Mel took another look at the card, shrugged, and slipped it into her pocket. 

***

Carmilla was doing nothing but scribbling on her notepad, chewing on her pencil every few moments. Laura was peeking over her shoulder; Carmilla had beautiful handwriting, even though Laura found it illegible. It was a sort of tight, but loopy scrawl, and Laura had to fight the urge to trace the lines with her fingers. 

“Your break is probably over by now,” Laura whispered. 

“Cupcake, she’s not going to fire me,” Carmilla answered, “I think this is more important. I need to figure out a recipe for this damn pie contest--” 

Laura quieted her with a quick kiss against the back of her neck. Carmilla sighed. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Do you, um...want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

Laura rubbed her back, biting her lip. “I know this has to be kind of hard for you,” Laura said, “I mean you always complained about working here, but it’s okay to miss it.” 

Carmilla kept scribbling in her notepad. She paused, lead pressed against the paper. 

“...I mean, I was starting to feel okay about it,” Carmilla said, “and of course that’s when someone has to buy it so they can turn into a Cracker Barrel or some shit. And that someone has to be _Vordenberg._ ” 

Laura didn’t know what to say; there was a whole history here, one she hadn’t been privy to until three months ago. However unpleasant it was for Laura to see Ell walk into that office with Vordenberg had to be at least a hundred times worse for Carmilla. 

“So…” Laura tapped her fingers on the corner table they had decided to occupy. She settled on, “exams are going to make it really hard to find time, so we should probably start working out how we’re going to see each other.” 

“What?” 

“Well yeah, we’re not breaking up, of course I want to try and visit.” 

Carmilla looked up at Laura. “You really want to do this, huh?” 

“You _still_ don’t believe me?” Laura asked. 

Carmilla smiled. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d get cold feet.” 

“ _Cold feet?_ Okay,” Laura pulled out her phone, “just watch this.” 

“Laura what are you doing…?” 

“Showing you how serious I am--Daddy, hey!” 

Carmilla’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re calling your--” 

Laura put a finger to her lips. “I’m great, and Gran is doing a lot better. Yeah, I can’t wait to go home! Um...actually though, I wanted to talk to you about that. I actually met someone while I was here. Mm-hm. Her name is Carmilla, Dad, and she’s _wonderful,”_ Laura smiled at Carmilla, “and you know, I really like Silas, so I was just thinking...you know, when school is finished I think I want to move down to Alabama?” 

Laura paused. “...Um, no Dad, there _isn’t_ a town in New York called ‘Alabama’, and if there was I mean the state anyway--Dad? Oh my God Dad, breathe! Just--just grab a paper bag or something, please?” Carmilla’s jaw dropped. Laura breathed out a sigh of relief. “Just keep breathing into the bag Dad, okay? Good. Is Carmilla here?” Um--” 

Carmilla shook her head, making a ‘cut it’ motion across her throat. 

“--No she’s not here right now, but I promise you will get to talk to her. See you love you bye!” 

Laura hung up, taking a deep breath. “...So that went better than I expected.” 

“ _Better?”_

“I thought he’d be angry! He’s not angry he’s just, like…” 

“Having a panic attack?” 

“Yes.” 

“I appreciate that you would risk your father dying of a heart attack for me.” 

Laura turned red. “Carm, I do not care what my dad says, I will be here. It’s going to happen.” 

“...Maybe for Christmas?” 

“Maybe you could visit me for Christmas? I don’t think my dad could handle it.” 

“Oh God, Laura, but there’s so much you’d love,” Carmilla said, “I mean if you get all misty eyed at some fireflies, you should see what Silas is like around Christmas. Everyone tries to outdo each other with the decorations, and I mean I can’t _stand_ christmas carolers, but I have a feeling you’d love it. There’s even a stupid, sappy little winter carnival--” Carmilla stopped talking for a moment. “And _wow.”_

Laura was watching her with a little smile of amusement. “What?” 

“I’m really looking forward to Christmas in Silas with you.”

It had been years since Carmilla had really looked forward to anything. Laura leaned in, kissing her softly. 

“I am too. Dad will just have to come with me, I guess.” 

Carmilla pressed back a little, and for a moment Carmilla considered just forgetting that people could see them--but they were interrupted by a _thump._

“Hey, lovebirds, up here.” 

Carmilla pulled away. LaFontaine was stared at them; they’d dropped a whole file cabinet drawer onto the table. 

“And this is?” 

“Vordenberg and his cronies left,” LaFontaine said, “you missed them because you were too busy staring into each other’s eyes.” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question.” 

“Perry went out the back way--I told her to get some sleep--so here’s all of our records.” 

“Wait,” Laura said, “Perry changed her mind?” 

“Oh, Hell no. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Perry doesn’t touch any of the paperwork since I started working with her. And since I look at them anyway,” they hit the side of the drawer, “I should decide what we do with them.” 

“How much is in there?” 

“This is one drawer of files stretching back seventy years or so. Perry keeps everything organized, but the rest of her family? Not so much. You’re going to have a fun time with Mel sorting through this.” 

Carmilla stood up and tried to lift it. “Holy _shit_ this weighs a ton.” 

“I’ll help you,” Laura answered. “Thank you LaFontaine, seriously.” 

“You’re welcome. If you don’t find anything, can you organize it for me when you’re done? It’d be a huge favor.” 

“We’re not doing your work for you--” 

“Sure thing!” Laura exclaimed blithely. “Come on Carm, let’s go before-- _Holy Hufflepuff_ this is heavy.” 

“Good luck!” LaFontaine exclaimed, getting out of there before Carmilla pointed out that they could, _maybe,_ lend a hand.

“Okay Carmilla, one foot in front of the other, let’s go, we can do this--” 

“What are you guys carrying…?” 

“Mel!” Laura squeaked, “Carmilla, that’s Mel, right? I’m walking backwards.” 

“Yeah, that’s her. Mel, these are some of the records you wanted.” 

“Curly Sue changed her mind, huh?” 

“...Sure, let’s go with that. Why are _you_ back?” 

Mel checked the time on her phone. “Well, I had one more night before I was going to head back, and I figured what the Hell, your friend Elsie was hot and a dinner couldn’t hurt...but clearly you both look like you need some help.” 

“Mel, this is heavy,” Laura said, “be careful--” 

Mel grabbed the drawer and hefted it in her arms like it was weightless. Laura stared at her in shock. 

“How--how are you--that thing must weigh like--” 

“As unopposed as I am to objectively attractive women staring at my rippling biceps,” Mel said dryly, “I _would_ like to keep my appointment, so whose house are we taking these to?” 

“My house, come on,” Carmilla said, walking past Laura, “and babe, pick your mouth up off the floor, you’re starting to hurt my feelings.” 

“You’re not annoyed?” 

“Unlike you, I look at my pie enriched diet and kind of understand that muscles are not something I’m going to have.” 

“I do yoga,” Laura mumbled, “I have _muscles._ I do! I still can’t do that,” Laura flexed an arm, “see? I have them too!” 

“Laura, you look like a gust of wind would knock you down the street like a tumbleweed,” Mel replied drolly, following Carmilla. 

Carmilla burst into laughter while Laura huffed indignantly at them both. 


	27. Strong-Willed

With the knowledge of the diner’s impending sale looming over everything like a cloud of dust, Laura felt she needed just a little bit of a break. So she got her morning coffee somewhere else. 

Starbucks was out, for obvious reasons. She wasn’t giving a penny of her money to Vordenberg; but luckily there were plenty of other little cafes to get coffee, and Laura felt good about supporting a local place. The cafe was called ‘A Little Taste of Paris’, and it was a tiny thing sandwiched between a deli and an ice cream shop, only big enough for a few tables and chairs. 

Still, the coffee tasted fine, and the scones weren’t Carmilla’s pies but they were something Laura could dip. 

So, Laura sat down. She grabbed her phone and, in the reflection of the screen, saw who was sitting at the table behind her. 

“Ell?” 

She looked up, eyes wide. “Laura. Hey.” 

Ell was looking at her, like she was expecting a fight. Laura frowned a little. 

“Hey,” she said gently, “I’m not mad at you; don’t worry.” 

Ell’s posture relaxed. She held her coffee mug in both hands, still looking at her suspiciously. There was something different about the way she was dressed that Laura couldn’t quite place; there had always been something a little different about Ell Laura could never quite place. Now it was even more prominent than usual. 

“Thank you,” Ell said softly, “how is everyone?” 

“Um, well, not happy,” Laura said, and Ell nodded. “And confused,” she added, “about you.” 

“I meant what I said,” Ell replied, “I didn’t tell Grandpa that because I thought he could use it to force Perry into selling. I know it was stupid, but…” She shrugged. 

“Ell, we all believe you. I promise.” 

Ell didn’t look convinced. Laura pressed on. 

“We’re more confused about why you want to work with Vordenberg after all of this.” 

Ell sipped her coffee.

“You know Perry didn’t mean what she said, right?” 

“No, she did. She meant every word of it.” 

Laura shook her head; Ell cut her off. “Laura, do you remember what you told me when we had coffee together? That you felt like you didn’t belong here?” 

She nodded. 

“When you live in a town where a lot people are struggling to make ends meet, the woman who walks around with designer clothes and lots of money is going to make some people mad. It didn’t matter how I acted. Everyone just kind of assumed I would be stuck up ‘cause my mom rubbed people the wrong way. I was the daughter of the snobby rich lady.”

Some things slid into place; Laura realized what had seemed off about Ell. She’d always dressed a little more like Laura. Her clothes were a little newer, a little cleaner, a little less worn than everyone else Laura met. It was like Ell was dressing up like a Silas resident for Halloween instead of actually _living_ there. 

And now Ell wasn’t even trying to wear the flannel shirts and blue jeans anymore. She was wearing a blazer and slacks now. She’d given up trying to blend in at all. Ell laughed, the sound devoid of humor, and she shook her head down at her mug. 

“I never understood that about Carmilla,” Ell continued, “she tried so hard to prove she _didn’t_ belong here. And no matter how hard she tried everyone saw her and went ‘there goes Carmilla Karnstein, what would we do without her and her pies?’ And she didn’t understand that I would have done _anything_ to have that. But that’s also why she never cared, you know, like everyone else did,” and Ell smiled softly, “I think that’s why I liked Carmilla _so much,_ because she was the first person that saw _me,_ you know? Her family didn’t resent me because we could afford things they couldn’t. I was just Ell to her. And great friend or not, I mean...that meant the world to me. It still does.” 

Laura didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Ell, I’m sorry.” 

“It isn’t your fault.” 

“No, it kind of was. I never said I was sorry. But I am. I am really, _really_ sorry for everything I did. You were a good friend and I just...I can’t regret doing it because I love Carmilla, but I’m _sorry.”_

Ell looked at her. “I wouldn’t have been so angry if you had _told me_ you liked her. Next time you want to make out with someone I’m in love with can you at least give me a heads up?” 

“I wasn’t _planning_ on making out with her, it just sort of--” Laura stopped. “--and there’s no excuse for it. But Ell, I can’t believe you would be happy doing _this._ Why would you want to go back to being with Vordenberg?” 

“Well, how would you know what I want? You’ve known me all of one summer.” 

“Because Carmilla can’t believe it either.” 

“Well maybe she was right, okay?” Ell answered. She grabbed sugar off the table, pouring it into her coffee. She grabbed a spoon and started stirring. “I wanted things to be the same forever, but that just doesn’t happen. And my parents, they couldn’t have wanted that for me either. I can’t be a cashier the rest of my life.” 

“But you look miserable.”

“At least in my grandpa's world everyone wants me around. I'm going to be modern day royalty, practically a baroness, and inherit a business empire. Who am I to complain? Things could be...you know...worse.”

She was stirring so fast that a few droplets flew in her face. Ell winced and wiped them away. 

Laura offered her a napkin. 

“...Thanks, Laura,” Ell said. She wiped her face. “I didn't really stop to chat yesterday. Um, has anyone...mentioned me?”

“They aren't happy, but no one has mentioned you.”

Ell nodded quietly, and Laura added, “well, except for Danny. She misses you.”

A small smile flashed across Ell’s face. 

“She never cared either,” she said softly, “this is all worth it if she's...yeah.”

Laura tilted her head. “What?”

Ell didn't say anything, opting instead to drink. Laura paused mid dipping her scone. 

“...Oh my God, Ell, you're doing this for Danny aren't you?”

“Why would I?” Ell mumbled. 

“What did Vordenberg tell you? That Danny would get to keep her job? Ell, he's lied to you a million times--”

“He _isn't_ lying,” Ell interrupted. She blushed a little. Laura looked at her pointedly. 

“...He doesn't like keeping on old staff when he buys a new place,” Ell explained, “after Perry yelled at me I called him, I begged him not to fire her, because she's a really good worker and she _needs_ her job. And he said he 'wasn't sure he could trust my judgement.’ Well he does now.”

“You bargained for Danny and not everyone else?”

“You don't think I _tried?_ He called my bluff. It was either Danny or no one. So I get to be his darling little princess,” an edge of bitterness crept in at princess, “and he makes sure Danny's life is not ruined. Considering he’s either buying it from Perry now or buying it when she has to close it, I think that’s a good deal.” 

“So that’s it,” Laura said, “you’re just going to be miserable the rest of your life? What if he just makes Danny’s job horrible?” 

“He won’t be doing anything. He will hire a manager who will run the restaurant, and chances are they aren’t going to be that bad. But it will be a business that is doing well. Which means it can afford to _pay_ people. Danny will be making more money. She might even be able to quit one of her other jobs and spend more time with Tucker and Annie. You wouldn’t do the same thing for Carmilla?” 

“So you’re _admitting_ Danny is to you what Carmilla is to me. Just to make that clear.” 

“I’m--I’m saying--I don’t _know_ what I’m saying, okay? I was in love with Carmilla for as long as I can remember, I still _am_ a little bit, and Danny used to _babysit_ me when I was little. This is all so weird. But what I do know for certain,” her hands tightened around her mug, “is that I did something _awful,_ not on purpose but it was still _awful,_ and Danny’s first reaction was to hug me. She hugged me and she asked if _I_ was okay, when she was the one that was about to lose her job because of my mistake. This time it really was my fault, Laura, and I can’t be the reason Danny’s family is hurt. I _can’t.”_

“But Danny wouldn’t _want_ you to do this, Ell. Carmilla said she’s been so upset because you’re going to be moving back. If she knew--” 

“Danny is stubborn as a bull, with more pride than she knows what to do with,” Ell answered, “but it isn’t about what makes Danny happy, it’s about what’s best for her family, and Danny quitting because of me is not good for her family. And she won’t know because _you_ won’t tell her.” 

Laura crossed her arms. “And why not?” 

Ell frowned. “Why not? Because you messed with my relationship with Carmilla, you messed with my relationship with Danny--and it not ending up being a bad thing does not make it _okay_ \--and for once, just _once,_ you are going to keep your mouth shut, because this _is not your problem.”_

Laura wanted to argue, because this was Carmilla’s best friend, and no matter how hard Ell tried, Laura couldn't help still liking her. 

But she kind of had a point, and Laura promised herself she would try and do better. 

“...Noted.”

“Look, it really isn't that bad. I kind like it, even.” She stood up. “And it was nice seeing you, but I need to go.”

Laura watched her. “Bye, Ell, but I don't believe that.” 

Ell paused in the doorway. “Well, why not?”

“Because if you liked it, you wouldn't be going out of your way to go here instead of Vordenberg’s Starbucks.”

Ell pursed her lips, as if she were going to respond; at the last second she changed her mind and walked out without another word. 

***

“Karnstein, is the pie ready?” Mel shouted. 

“I’m not a robot!” Carmilla snapped, “these need time to _bake.”_

Carmilla removed the pie from the oven, tested it with a knife, and decided it was just barely on the side of finished. Not quite as golden brown as she’d wanted, but she wanted Mel to _shut up._

“Here,” Carmilla said, walking back into the living room, “your payment. Mel pie. Lemon meringue.” 

“...Haha,” Mel said, “I assume it’s not a coincidence ‘Mel pie’ is sour.” 

“You’re perceptive.” She sat down on the couch next to her. The file cabinet’s contents were spilled out across the floor, Mel shifting through a pile in her lap. “Find anything?” 

“This is all pretty useless.” 

“How is it useless?” 

“I’m not interested in what they were doing seventy years ago,” Mel answered, “I’m trying to find things from when the Abbotts bought into the place?” 

“Why are you so interested in that?” 

Mel threw Carmilla a dirty look. “I told you, I can't tell you. I'm not losing my license to practice law so I can save an old diner.” Mel kept rifling through papers. “But your friend has no idea how to organize things. Seriously.” 

The front door opened. Laura walked in, unceremoniously sitting down next to Carmilla and putting an arm around her. “Find anything?” 

“No luck so far.” Carmilla took Laura's hand, kissing her fingers. “Where have you been?” 

“Gran has a cold so I had to pick up some stuff for her after I got coffee. Any news this morning?”

 

“Perry is apparently trying to get Vordenberg to agree not to fire us for at least six months so that we can find new jobs.”

“Expect three,” Mel said. 

“...Wonderful,” Carmilla answered, “and she wants him to promise he'll have some sort of non-discrimination policy for LGBT employees or something.”

“You may or may not get it depending on how much of an asshole he is,” Mel added.

“In that case I'm leaning toward no,” Laura said. 

“Look, your friends are horrendously outgunned here. Not to brag, but Vordenberg can afford some damn good lawyers. And I highly doubt Perry knows her way around business negotiations.” 

“All the more reason why we need to do this,” Laura said. She looked at Carmilla. “I ran into Ell at a coffee place this morning.” 

“You did? Is she okay? How did she look?”

“She looked...kinda fancy?”

“Of course,” Carmilla rolled her eyes, “he makes her dress up like a business woman Barbie doll.” 

“I think she _wanted_ to dress like that Carm.” 

Laura told her about the conversation she'd had with Ell--leaving out, although it killed her, that Ell was doing it for Danny. 

“Your friend sounds like a wimp,” Mel remarked. 

“Hey, leave her alone,” Carmilla snapped. 

“I'm just saying,” Mel said, “I've always had the reputation of being a bitch--”

“Really, I never would have thought,” Carmilla replied dryly, and Laura hit her arm lightly. 

“Carm, be nice,” Laura said. Mel shrugged. 

“I’m just saying, I was smart enough to own it.”

“Are you going to critique my friend's coping mechanisms, or are you going to do your job?”

“ _For free._ Do not forget that I am helping you _for free.”_

“And we appreciate it,” Laura interrupted before Carmilla could get in another smart remark. 

“Even though you haven’t found anything,” Carmilla mumbled. 

“Do _you_ want to look instead of cuddling with your girlfriend?” Mel asked, “because you are free to look.” 

Laura frowned a little. She reached into the file cabinet, grabbing a pile of papers. “Are some of these _upside down?_ Perry does not seem like the type to keep her stuff like this. What gives?” 

“A few things,” Carmilla answered, resting her chin on Laura’s shoulder to look at the papers with her, “for one, Perry trusted LaFontaine to handle the paperwork, which was a really bad idea. And Perry is way more organized than the rest of her family. I mean, you should see her recipe books. Clean as a whistle.” 

“So it’s _LaF_ that’s the disorganized one.” 

“Yeah, that’s about right.” 

Laura tilted her head a little, shifting through the stack she’d grabbed. “Expense reports from like twenty years ago...a contract turning ownership of the diner over to Perry…the deed to the business…hey,” Laura stopped, “this one says ‘official recognition of the transfer of equity in regards to Rebecca Abbott and Booker Abbott--’” 

“Give me that!” 

Mel grabbed from Laura, scanning through it. “Okay. So Ell’s parents, they were silent partners, right?” 

“Yeah,” Carmilla answered, “since I was a kid and Perry’s mom and dad owned the place.” 

Mel’s eyebrows raised higher and higher, the lower her eyes scanned down the paper. “Alright. So...if one of the Abbotts die, their equity goes to the surviving partner.” 

“Okay…?” 

“But if they both die, ‘the Perrys agree to abide under the terms previously agreed, in regards to the wills of--’”

“They have a _will?”_

“Does that surprise you?” Mel asked, looking up, “they were loaded, of course they’d have a will. Rich people with lots of things tend to be careful about where they end up once they’re dead.” 

“So…” Laura rubbed the back of her neck, “where _is_ the will?” 

 

Mel, Laura, and Carmilla looked at each other before they dumped the rest of the papers out onto the coffee table. 

“Seriously, no wonder you’re not doing well, what kind of business owners _are_ these people?” Mel said, “they mention a will a hundred times in this stupid contract, but they don’t bother mentioning what is actually _in it?_ I know they probably didn’t hire lawyers to write it, but you’d think that’s common sense!” 

“Look, clearly the diner isn’t doing great for a reason, okay?” 

“Yeah, because the first generation clearly didn’t do a great job passing their business savvy down.” 

“Well they need to have a will _somewhere,”_ Laura said, “at a bank or something? A courthouse? When my mom died I remember my dad putting on a suit and going to a courthouse.” 

“You can’t just walk into a courthouse and demand to see someone’s will you’ve never met and have no relation to,” Mel said. 

“Well, maybe they kept a copy? At their house, right?”

“Their house,” Carmilla said, “as in, Ell’s house. You want us to knock on Ell’s door and just ask?”

“Could it hurt? The worst she can say is no.” 

Laura looked at Mel. “Uh, look, I don’t think she’d let us.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I just...don’t think she’d want to.” 

Carmilla looked at Laura. “There something you’re not telling us?” 

“I never said that.” 

Carmilla stared at her suspiciously. But Laura didn’t say anything. Carmilla sighed. 

“I can get her to help.” 

***

Carmilla did not expect the first thing she saw when Ell's porch was in view to be Ell on a date. 

Or at least it _looked_ like a date, from where Carmilla was standing. Ell was sitting on the porch with Will. They were both rather close. They both were holding a glass in their hands.

So it looked like a date, albeit not one that was going well, considering how uninterested Ell looked. 

“Hey, Cinnabon!” 

Ell looked up. She frowned a little. “What are you doing here?”

“Laura and I have been talking with Mel and we had some questions about--”

“Now isn't a good time,” Will answered, “we're just taking a break before we go back inside to talk to Mr. Vordenberg.”

Carmilla glared at Will. “Beat it, Cassanova, she's a lesbian.” 

“But--”

Carmilla stared Will down. He looked at Ell. “I’ll be back inside,” Will said. Ell nodded, still looking at her suspiciously. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ell said, “Grandpa is inside, if he sees me talking to you--” 

“Tough,” Carmilla answered. She stepped forward and threw a photo in Ell’s lap. “Ell, remember this?” 

She didn’t look down. “What is it?” 

“Take a look.” 

Ell looked down. It was a photo of Ell with Carmilla, Ell’s mother and father grinning widely behind her with their hands on each of Ell’s shoulders. “Yeah, that’s from my sixteenth birthday, I think. Why are you showing me this…? I mean, it’s a great picture, but still.” 

“If you won’t say yes for me, say yes because your parents would have kicked Vordenberg’s ass for the way he’s treated you.” 

“To _what?”_

“Letting us into their old office.” 

“Why…?” 

“I, uh...want to take a look at their wills.” 

“Their wills,” Ell said flatly. 

“Kinda? Well, Mel does.” 

“Mel? Because…?” 

Carmilla shrugged. 

“So you want me to let you dig through my mom and dad’s old stuff, to find a copy of a will that may or may not be there--” 

“That’s about right.” 

“--all because Mel wants to see it, for reasons she can’t tell you.” 

“Pretty much.” 

Ell took a deep breath. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. 

“Carmilla, you don’t think that, in the six years they’ve been dead, that the will has been executed already?” 

“Well, who was the ‘executor?’” 

“Grandpa.” 

Carmilla gave Ell a pointed look. Ell huffed. 

“ _No,_ he wouldn’t lie about the will.” 

“He wouldn’t _lie?_ Ell, he called the health inspector on us! After he pretended he was all proud of you so you would tell him stuff!” 

“That isn’t the same! Look,” Ell shook her head, “Grandpa loved my mom. And I mean they fought over me sometimes, but he’s not going to screw up his own daughter’s will on _purpose._ ” 

“He loved your mom, huh?” Carmilla looked down at the photo in Ell’s hands. “If he really loved her, he’d treat her daughter well. He’d treat you the way your parents did after you came out. He wouldn’t be pressuring you into ‘entertaining’ _Will.”_

“How do you know--” 

“Because his dad owns the law firm, Vordenberg has tried to set you up with rich douches before, and you looked uncomfortable as Hell. It does not take a genius to connect those dots.” 

Ell didn’t say anything. 

“Cinnabon, look at that picture. Does that look like two people ashamed of their daughter because she wasn’t a ruthless business obsessed jackass? They wouldn’t have wanted you to do this. Not if you didn’t _want_ to. And I know you don’t want to. Come on, just let Mel take one look.”

Ell breathed out through her nose. “Carmilla, I’d like to help you, but I can’t.” 

“Ell--” 

“I’d _like_ to tell you that Grandpa will probably be leaving in about an hour and I will be going with him, but I can’t.” 

Carmilla blinked. “Wait, are you…” 

“And I’d like to say,” Ell took a step closer, “that you have a spare key, so if you _happened_ to stop in while I’m gone, I couldn’t do anything about it.” 

Carmilla nodded silently. 

“I would like to tell you that,” Ell continued, “but I can’t. And if there is nothing useful, I do not want to know what happened. Like at all. Theoretically.” 

“Theoretically, you won’t even know I was here.” 

“Great.” 

Ell looked back at the door. She bit her lip. “I need to go back inside. Hide in the bushes or whatever until we leave; I don’t care.” 

“Sure.” 

“And I’m keeping the picture.” 

Carmilla smiled. “Of course. All yours.” 

Ell gazed down at it wistfully, sighed, and trudged back inside after slipping it in her pocket. 

Carmilla grabbed her phone and texted Laura. 

_Meet me at Ell’s house, we’re going in as soon as she leaves. There’s a spare key to her house in the drawer next to the fridge, grab it._

The reply came moments later: 

_Carmilla Karnstein are we breaking into her house?! 0_o_

_The couple that breaks into houses together stays together? Besides, it’s not breaking in when you have a key._

_> :( _

_Just kidding Cupcake. Ell said yes, ‘theoretically,’ we can. I will see you--love you._

_Yay, great job!!! :D Luv u too. :3_

She’d really have to talk to her later about all the emojis and punctuation, but for now, Carmilla had more important things to worry about. 


	28. A Battle of Wills

The diner closed its doors when Vordenberg came in with his contract for Perry and LaFontaine to sign; Perry insisted everyone take the day off. 

“I know this is a bad day for all of you,” she had told them, “take a day off, get some rest, please.” 

A bunch of people glaring daggers as they signed the diner away was not something Perry wanted, anyway. Unfortunately, it didn’t really work, considering most of them wanted to stay. Glaring daggers at Vordenberg was a great stress reliever. She finally agreed on a compromise; Danny and Carmilla got to stay. Carmilla because of seniority. Danny because...well, she didn’t know when she’d get another chance to give Ell a proper goodbye after that. 

“Where's your girlfriend?” Danny whispered. 

“Running late,” Carmilla answered, “she'll be here.” 

Or at least she hoped Laura would be. After Laura’s initial ‘holy Hufflepuff’ reaction, they agreed that the whole document (once they'd finally found it, which took longer than they expected) needed to be picked through with a fine toothed comb. That was better left to Mel and Laura. 

Vordenberg strode in with his lawyers and Ell in tow and briefcase in hand. Perry, face white as a sheet, stood up to greet him. 

“Mr. Vordenberg.”

Perry shook his hand. 

“Mrs. Perry. Shall we continue this in your office?”

“It's a bit crowded in there. We can use one of the tables out here instead?”

Vordenberg nodded, and they sat at a table in the corner. He placed his briefcase on the table, snapping it open. 

“So, this is pretty simple,” Will said, “both of you just need to sign on the dotted line.” 

“I’m assuming this has everything we talked about?” Perry asked, looking over it while LaFontaine watched over her shoulder. 

“Mr. Vordenberg has agreed to give your employees four months to find other employment before he makes a decision in regards to replacing them.” 

Perry nodded. “And your discrimination policy?” 

“Regrettably, Vordenberg will own this particular franchise, but that is up to the company itself,” Theo said. Perry frowned. 

“I am queer. My spouse is queer. Many of my employees chose to work here because they wanted to be somewhere where they felt safe being out in the workplace. This is a very important point for me.” 

“Mrs. Perry, my own granddaughter is a lesbian,” Vordenberg answered, putting an arm on her back, “of course I will not tolerate any maltreatment.” 

Ell smiled uneasily. Perry sighed. 

“...Okay. Fine. So just sign here?” 

She grabbed a pen she stuck through her bun and signed. She handed the pen to LaFontaine, who bent down and did the same. 

“Seriously, where the fuck are Laura and Mel?” Carmilla said to herself, looking at her watch. Vordenberg shook Perry’s hand, then LaFontaine’s. Will and Theo busied themselves with organizing everything. 

“I want you all to know,” Vordenberg said, looking at the watching group smugly, “that I look forward to working with you all, and leading this location back to prosperity!” 

“As a Perkins,” Ell added, looking at him, “as a Perkins, that’s what you decided on right?” 

“Ah, yes. A Perkins. And, speaking of which, we should leave if we want to make our appointment with the franchisers--” 

The door banged opened, startling Ell clean out of her skin. She practically jumped a foot in the air. 

“Oh my God--Laura?” 

“YOU ARE NOT LEAVING THIS DINER!” Laura shouted, brandishing a stack of papers in her hand like a sword. Vordenberg just stared at her, very, very confused. 

“Sorry I was late,” Laura said, walking to stand next to Carmilla, “We had to find Mr. Abbott’s will too, and then comb through all of _that_ just to cover our bases--Mel didn’t think it was a great idea for her to be here for this _but,”_ Laura tapped the side of her head, “I memorized everything so I am _ready.”_

“Ready for _what?”_ Danny interrupted. Laura grabbed her. 

“This is ridiculous,” Vordenberg sputtered, “we are going--” 

“Wait! Danny, you had one semester of law school,” Laura handed Danny the papers, “when someone in a partnership dies, what happens to their equity?” 

“Um…” Danny furrowed her brow. “I mean we didn’t cover this but-- I’m pretty sure their equity just goes back to the remaining partner. Or partners, I guess? Unless there’s a provision for that.” 

Laura nodded. “So when Ell’s parents died, the Perry’s got fifty percent back.” 

“Sure?” 

“ _Which,_ they passed down to Perry. Who sold half of her equity to LaFontaine. So now they each own fifty percent?” 

“You’re wasting your time, guys,” Ell said wearily, “Perry and LaFontaine already signed. It’s _over.”_

“But they _can’t_ sign. That’s the problem! Danny, read that first paper please.” 

Carmilla fought the urge to roll her eyes at Laura. 

“Uh…” Danny scanned it. Her eyes widened. “Perry’s parents agreed to follow their wills.” 

“Huh. _Interesting,”_ Carmilla took a step forward, “so, Danny, does _that_ change anything?” 

Danny nodded, starting to enjoy going along with them. “It would depend on what the wills say. If you have them--” 

“And we _do!”_

Danny shuffled through it. “Shit, you actually _do.”_

Vordenberg looked visibly uncomfortable now. “Where did you find that?” 

“They were smart enough to keep copies when _you_ probably destroyed the one you had!” Carmilla snapped. Ell looked at him. 

“Grandpa…?” 

“We don’t need to listen to this,” Vordenberg answered, “Eloise, we are leaving.” 

He grabbed Ell’s arm and started to pull her and Danny began reading as fast as she could. 

“‘I direct that the following specific bequests be made from my estate, only in the event my spouse Booker James Abbott does not survive me: our remaining equity in all business investments, most notably _fifty percent equity in the Silas Diner at 2231 Rosewood Street,_ and all documents digital or otherwise pertaining thereof, shall be distributed to, _Eloise Skylar Abbott!”_

Ell’s hands flew up to cover her mouth as a squeak escaped her. Laura nodded. The entire room erupted into pandemonium. Everyone started shouting at once, and Carmilla raised her voice to be heard above them. 

“ _So,_ that means Perry never owned fifty percent.” 

“And when she gave half of her equity over to LaF, she was only giving half of fifty,” Laura continued, “which means together they only own fifty percent of the business--” 

“Which means they can’t make any decisions, like _selling the property over to someone else,”_ Danny finished, “without Ell’s say so. Because you,” she smiled at Ell, “are the plurality shareholder.” 

“I...I own...but that means I _own the plurality.”_

“Yeah, Cinnabon,” Carmilla said, grinning, “you are the owner of the diner.” 

“You mean I don’t even own my own family business?” Perry exclaimed, standing up with her palms on the table. LaFontaine put a hand on her back. 

“Uh, Perr, calm down--” 

“I will not calm down! Someone else owns more of my own diner than I do, and I didn’t even _know.”_

“To be fair, _Ell_ didn’t even know,” LaFontaine pointed out. 

Vordenberg stayed calm. He looked at Ell. 

“This is just a minor inconvenience; you’ll just have to sign as well.” 

Ell looked dazed. She shook her head. “They...they wanted _me_ to have it,” she looked at Vordenberg. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“Because I knew you weren’t _ready,_ Eloise, sweetheart,” Vordenberg said gently, “dear, you know your mother said you didn’t have the same business acumen as she did. You took more after your father that way.” 

“I wasn’t _ready?_ So you decide to just take it from me?” 

“Of course not.” He put his hands on Ell’s shoulders, “if you did well, I would have made you a _manager._ Would you really rather be an owner of an old, rundown garbage dump such as this, or the manager of a well known franchise? It wouldn’t close down. And think of how much better paid your friend Miss Lawrence would be! I was only thinking of you, darling.” 

Ell blinked rapidly. She looked at Laura, Carmilla, Danny. “He’s not wrong--”

“No, no Ell, that is bullshit-- _look,”_ Carmilla grabbed one of the wills and showed it to her. “Look at when she signed this. Your mom had this made when you were _fifteen._ This wasn’t something she thought of when you were too little for her to know what you’d be like. You were a teenager. She knew what kind of person you were and she _still_ wanted you to have it.” 

“Not Vordenberg,” Laura added, “ _you.”_

Ell walked forward. With shaky hands, she grabbed the will from Carmilla. She looked down at it and said softly: 

“They believed in me. They thought I could do it. They really thought I _could._ ” 

“And they were wrong,” Vordenberg answered, switching tactics, “may I remind you that this was your fault? We wouldn't be here if you had known how to do your job properly in the first place! Do you really want to prolong this for _months,_ and cause even more trouble for your _friends?”_

Danny squinted a little, when Ell glanced back at her.

“Ell, are you doing this because you’re afraid of what will happen to _me?”_ Danny asked. 

Ell glanced back at her. “I--I just--of _course_ I’m worried about what will happen to you. I care about you!” 

“I don’t need charity, Ell--” 

“It isn’t _charity,_ it’s me not wanting your brother and sister to starve!” 

Danny frowned. She looked at Perry. “LaF, Perry. I _quit.”_

“Danny what are you _doing?”_

“Some things are more important than money, okay?” She looked at Ell. “I'll find another job. But I won't be the reason you get hurt, Ells. I _can't.”_

Ell looked absolutely shocked. Her hands clenched around the paper in her hands. Vordenberg grabbed her arm. 

“Eloise, do not continue this _idiotic--”_

“Do _not_ call me Eloise!” She wrenched her arm away and stumbled a few steps back, standing next to Carmilla. “How many times have I told you not to call me Eloise? My name is Ell. It is _Ell._ And I am not signing over anything.” 

Vordenberg crossed his arms. Danny put a protective hand on Ell’s shoulder. 

“You are ungrateful. You have always been ungrateful! I took care of you, tried to make something out of you--” 

“You’ve made me feel like shit since I was sixteen years old,” Ell snapped, “you lied to me for _six years._ I am making this really clear. The only way you are getting this piece of property, is if you build something on its _ashes,_ because I would rather _burn this building to the ground_ than let you have it!” 

Ell’s voice lowered to a growl. Even when she had yelled at her before, Laura had never seen her so angry. It was like someone had opened floodgates and all of her anger was spilling out at once. Vordenberg looked at Theo and Will. 

“This drama is _hardly_ necessary,” Theo said, “a six year old will is going to have a difficult time standing up to scrutiny. I would be surprised if this is allowed into probate at all.” 

“Then I will sue,” Ell answered, rolling the will up carefully,“I will sue you, and I will keep suing you, and I will keep this in court. I do not care how much money it will cost or how long it will take, I don’t _care,”_ Ell started walking toward Vordenberg again, “because I have dealt with your _shit_ my entire life, but this is the last time. It is the _last time._ You’ve messed with my friends, you messed with my _parents._ Until you can prove it isn’t, this building is mine _._ Now, get the _fuck out of my diner!”_

She shoved Vordenberg in the chest; Danny had to rush forward with Carmilla and pull Ell back. 

Vordenberg looked like he wanted to kill all of them. Instead, he just said, “I will see you in court, then,” before calling Will and Theo with a wave of his hand. Ell was breathing heavily, almost shaking. When Vordenberg finally walked out, she went from the picture of righteous anger to looking absolutely terrified. 

“Oooooh my God, I just told my Grandpa to fuck off,” Ell said. She held her head, sitting down in the closest chair. “I just did that. Ooooooh my God, I own the diner. I tried to attack my Grandfather and I own a diner. I am about to sue my own Grandfather because I own a diner after I told him to fuck off, ooooooh my God…” 

“Ell? Ell, calm down. Are you okay?” Danny put a hand on her back. Ell was starting to hyperventilate. “Ell, take deep breaths, come on.” 

“I--I can’t--oooooh my God--” 

“Cinnabon, we got that,” Carmilla said, rubbing her arm, “you did good, Ell, that took guts.” 

Laura disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a paper bag. “Ell, use this!” 

Ell grabbed it from her hands, holding it over her face. She started breathing into it, the bag making a soft _foof_ when Ell filled it with air. 

“I-- _foof foof foof--_ still can’t believe I did that-- _foof foof foof_ \--what am I gonna do guys?-- _foof foof foof_ \--I just told him to go fuck himself!” 

“Actually, you told him to get the fuck out, which is _slightly_ better…?” 

“Not-- _foof foof foof--_ helping Laura!” 

Perry had walked forward. She kneeled down, putting a hand on Ell’s knee. 

“Ell, sweetie, I’ve had a few panic attacks the last couple of months...which is why I’ve been staying home so much...try breathing--” 

“That’s-- _foof foof foof--_ what I’m trying--” 

“In for two, exhale for four, hold for six, is what I mean.” 

Ell looked at Perry. With great difficulty, Ell sucked in her breath before holding it and exhaling. Perry counted her through it until, finally, Ell lowered the bag from her mouth. 

“Better?” 

“I...yeah.” 

“Thank you for standing up for the diner, Ell,” Perry said softly. Ell looked at her. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess that’s what I did.” 

“While our current financial situation really doesn’t look much better at the moment...I can’t really find it in me to be upset that you won’t let us sell. I was really not looking forward to it.” 

“Also, you were actually pretty badass,” LaFontaine added, “I did not know you had that in you.” 

“I didn't either. Oooh my God I still can't believe--”

“Okay, let's not fall back into that Ell.” Danny squeezed her hand, and Ell smiled up at her.

“Thank you. For quitting I mean. Once he wasn't holding that over me I just _exploded..._ uh, you're not still quitting though, right?”

“Naw, not if I don't have to work for Vordenberg.” 

Ell visibly relaxed. “Oh, thank God.” 

“So what happens now?” Danny asked. Everyone looked at Perry. 

“Oh. Um. I suppose that depends on Ell. Ell?” 

“I can't think straight right now. Just give me some time to process...all of this.”

Perry stood up with LaFontaine. “As it stands, I should probably make some phone calls so people know what's going on.”

“I'll call Mel!” Laura exclaimed, “she'll want to know how it went.”

“Put it on video chat,” Danny said, “I want to say hi.”

Laura positioned herself so Ell, Danny, and Carmilla would also be in view. As soon as her face appeared they all shouted _hi Mel!_ In unison. 

“Jesus guys, you want to say hi to the entire bus?” Mel said quietly. 

“Mel, thank you for your help,” Ell said. 

“So it went well?”

“It's still our diner for now,” Carmilla said.

“Great. You know I can't help you with any of the legal trouble I figure you'd all be in now, right? I'm lucky if I manage to slip out of this one. Theo already called to tell me I was dead.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Deny everything and hope that works,” Mel replied, “don't worry about it.” 

Danny frowned, but didn't push. “I'll have the twins call when we get home.” 

“Thanks. Hey, Blondie.” 

“Yes?” 

“Final word of advice for you. You are an attractive woman set to inherit millions of dollars. Stop acting like you should be ashamed of it. Trust me, it’ll help.” 

“Oooooh my God I am an heiress who is about to sue my…” Danny started rubbing Ell’s back again soothingly. Ell closed her eyes and calmed down. Mel raised an eyebrow.

“And Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, for the love of _God_ , ask her out already.” 

Danny turned red as Mel signed off. 

“Uh, Danny?” 

She looked at Ell.

Laura and Carmilla looked at each other, and had enough sense to at least give them both some room. They sat at the counter. 

(Well, Carmilla forced Laura to give them room while Laura watched out of the corner of her eye.) 

“Uh, Ells, here's the thing...I kind of...well…”

Ell looked confused. Danny finally blurted out:

“I kind of _like_ when people call you my wife okay?”

“Because it's kind of funny…?”

“No! It makes me feel like I'm going to throw up-- _no,_ I mean, like, butterflies in my stomach not like--”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Carmilla groaned. She cupped her hands over her mouth. “She wants to sleep with you Ell!” 

“ _What?”_

“That's _really_ oversimplifying a crush, Carmilla!” Laura said. 

“...A crush? Like, you have a crush on me?”

Danny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. Ell Abbott, I have feelings for you.” 

Ell didn't say anything at first. 

“Like, romantic kind of feelings?” Danny added. “...Ell? You alright?”

Her face was turning red. Ell nodded quickly. “Uh-huh,” she said, with a dazed look on her face, “I’m just fifty-fifty on whether or not I’m dreaming right now.” 

Danny smiled. She ran a hand through her hair. “So...would you maybe like...want to try a date?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe the Lustig County Fair this weekend?”

Ell nodded. “Mm-hm.”

Danny laughed. “It’s a date then.”

“A date. That is what it is. A date with you. Uh-huh.”

“Great. I should probably get home for the twins, but…” Danny bit her lip for a moment, then quickly leaned in to peck Ell on the cheek. “I’ll text you with details; bye!” 

She ducked out. Ell blinked owlishly. Carmilla smirked. 

“Well, I’ll be damned, you’ve got game Cinnabon. Cinnabon?” 

A slow smile spread across Ell’s face. 

“She liked me back,” Ell said softly, “a girl actually likes me back.” 

Ell put her hands over her mouth, giggling a little. “Danny is smart and beautiful and nice, she’s just so _nice_ , and she actually _likes me back!”_

Laura smiled. “I’m really happy for you, Ell.” 

“I have a date! I--I have a date,” Ell’s eyes widened. “I have a date with Danny and I own a diner that I’m going to need to sue someone over and ooooooh my God…” 

Ell grabbed the bag again. 

“This went well,” Carmilla said dryly. Laura looked at her. 

“It did go well. I mean Ell needs some...support, but she’ll be fine. I mean, it doesn’t solve the problem of where we’re getting the money from, though…” 

Carmilla bit her lip. “Actually, I think I do have one more idea,” Carmilla cracked her knuckles, “how much pie do you think you can eat before this weekend?” 

Laura actually clapped a little from excitement. “Carmilla, is that a _challenge?”_

***

“ _That_ girl owns the diner now?” 

Laura paused, looking back at the couch disapprovingly. 

“Gran, don’t sound so surprised!” 

She laughed, which turned into a slight cough. “I’m sorry, Laura, but I'm just imagining the look on her grandfather's face.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad,” Laura admitted. She frowned. “Gran, did you take your medicine?”

“Yes, I took my medicine. It's just a cold, dear, I'm fine.” 

Laura was about to press the issue when there was a knock on the door. Laura grinned, looking toward it. 

“Carmilla is here!”

“I can see her waiting by the door, Laura. Don’t keep my future granddaughter-in-law waiting!” 

Laura started to turn red, looking back at her again when she put her hand on the doorknob. “Gran, please don’t. Please?” 

“I make no such promises.” 

Laura pouted, opening the door. 

“That’s what you look like when I stop by, Cupcake?” 

Carmilla smiled. Laura matched her, cupping the back of Carmilla’s head and leaning in for a kiss. “Sorry, that was for Gran, not you.” 

“Aw, I don’t annoy you anymore? I have to try harder, then.” 

“Haha. Got the pie?” 

“ _Pies._ Plural. Hold on while I get the rest off my bike.” 

“I’ll help!” 

They finally got the pies inside, Carmilla explaining as they walked. 

“I literally spent all night baking these...we don’t really have any time, so I went through all my recipes, and I tried to just get as many done as possible. Hopefully one of them is good enough to win.” 

Laura put a pie on the table and turned around. “They’re _all_ good enough to win,” Laura answered, putting her hands on Carmilla’s waist, “this is you, we’re talking about.” 

Carmilla leaned in for another kiss, Laura pulling her closer; they were interrupted by a soft ‘ah-hem.’ 

“Oh! Uh,” Carmilla pulled away and ran a hand through her hair sheepishly, “hey, Mrs. Cochrane. I hope your cold is--” 

“Carmilla, come here and give me a hug!” 

Carmilla laughed, walking to her and bending down to give her a hug. “I wanted to ask you something?” 

She took a breath, walking back to Laura and grabbing her hand. “I don’t know if Laura has told you yet,” she said, “but Laura and I decided we want to try and make this-- _us_ \--work after she goes back to school.” 

Mrs. Cochrane tilted her head. “And...?” 

Carmilla blinked. “Uh, I want your blessing, I guess?” 

“Her _blessing?_ I can make my own decisions, Carmilla--” 

“I know, I just thought it’d be romantic! And considering your father had a _panic attack_ when you told him--” 

“Wait, Sherman had a panic attack?” 

“Not the point!” Carmilla threw her hands in the air, still holding onto Laura’s, “the point _is,_ I am in love with your granddaughter and I hope that makes you happy.” 

Mrs. Cochrane got up, with some slight difficulty. “Of _course_ I’m happy, Carmilla, don’t be silly.” She put a hand on the kitchen table for stability, “you two know what you’re getting yourself into, right?” 

“Believe me, I know, which is why it took me so long to decide to do it,” Laura answered, “even though I should have a lot sooner.”

She kissed Carmilla on the cheek, and Carmilla raised her shoulders, trying to look nonchalant and failing. Mrs. Cochrane hugged them both. 

“I am so, _so_ happy for you two! You are going to give me the cutest little grandbabies--” 

“GRAN.” 

“What? You _want_ me to die without seeing my grandbabies?” 

“SO! Pie,” Carmilla grabbed a fork, sticking it in the middle of one of them, “let’s all eat pie instead of talking about future children, okay? Huh? Right?” 

Mrs. Cochrane smirked at Laura, but sat down to eat.

***

In all her years of eating too much sugar, Laura had never had an hour more delicious than the one she spent taste testing Carmilla’s pies. 

Cheesecake pie. Coffee amaretto pie. Tiramisu pie. Blueberry deep dish with bacon. Laura had never seen _so many_ different flavors at once. Even Gran had to call it after she became too full. 

Laura didn’t even know the _meaning_ of the word ‘full’ when it came to pie. 

“...Okay, last one,” Carmilla said, “key lime coconut pie.” 

Laura took a forkful. “ _Delicious.”_

“You’ve said that after every one.” 

“Because they all are!” 

“Fair enough,” Carmilla sat down, leaning in and lacing her fingers together, “okay. So which one do I bring to the contest on Saturday?” 

Laura swallowed her pie. She nodded. “...Apple.” 

“Apple?” 

“Yep.” 

“Plain apple pie.” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you _high?”_

Laura leaned back a little. “What? You asked! And apple is my favorite!” 

“Laura, I showed you all of these amazing flavors. And the one you’re convinced is worth twenty-five thousand dollars is _apple?_ How am I going to win with some boring, plain pie like that? How can you choose that one over all of them?” 

Laura frowned a little. “I don’t think it’s plain and boring,” Laura answered, “sometimes simple is better, you know? Sometimes if it’s the right flavor it doesn’t need all those other fancy tricks. It’s perfect the way it is.” Laura grabbed Carmilla’s hand. “So yeah. I’m happy with nice, simple, _perfect_ apple pie. And I think anyone would be stupid not to be.” 

Carmilla narrowed her eyes. “...When did this become a metaphor?” 

Laura smiled shyly. Carmilla smiled back. 

“Fine. Apple pie, then.” 


	29. The Lustig County Pie Contest

The Lustig County Fair was bigger than Laura expected. A huge field had been converted into an amusement park, and the last day of the fair--the day Laura and Carmilla were going--culminated in the possibly life changing contest. 

Until then, though, Laura was happy that they basically had an entire amusement park at their disposal after Carmilla signed in for the contest. 

“Where are Danny and Ell?” 

Carmilla shrugged; they were supposed to meet them at the entrance. “Trouble with parking--” 

“Guys! Did Danny show up yet?” 

Ell ran up to them, face red, fidgeting from nerves.

“I thought you were driving with her?” Carmilla answered. 

“I was too nervous. I was afraid we wouldn't have anything to say because I am _so nervous_ so I drove here by myself instead--” 

“Ell, calm down,” Laura said gently, “you look great, you're great, this will be fine.” 

And it was true; Ell did look better than Laura had ever seen her. Even now when she was nervous, it was a happy nervous. 

“Right. You're right. I _am_ great. Um,” Ell looked at Carmilla, “are you ready?” 

“As I'll ever be.” 

Laura could tell she was more anxious than she was letting on. 

“Hey, guys!” 

Danny was speed walking toward them, dragging her brother and sister along. Carmilla rolled her eyes. 

“Carmilla, I'm not leaving my baby brother and sister home while I go to a fair,” Danny said, “that's tantamount to child abuse.” 

“Fine, but they better not slow us down.” 

“Here, let me carry one of them,” Ell offered, holding out her arms. Danny shifted so Ell could grab Annie, pausing with their faces closer together. 

“Uh...hey, Danny,” Ell said, taking a step back. Danny smiled. 

“Ells. You look beautiful.” 

Ell blushed. “Oh. Thanks. I just...you know, ditched the business suits and went back to wearing my normal clothes.” 

“That's _why_ you do. You look like yourself again.” 

Ell’s face turned a shade darker until Annie tugged her sleeve. 

“Ell, can we go on a pony ride first?” 

“PONY!” Ell exclaimed, snapping out of it, “right. We will find you a pony to ride. Let's go.” 

“Danny, I'm _hot.”_

“Tuck, I told you to bring your juice but you didn't want to carry it.”

“But I want water!” 

“And I'm hungry!” Annie added. Ell hefted her up a little. 

“Okay, let's get you both fed and hydrated.” 

They started walking, and Carmilla wrinkled her nose a little. 

“You know, when Ell suggested a double date, this is not what I was hoping for.” 

“Aw, but look how happy they are, Carm!” 

“Just promise me that if we ever have kids it will not be for a _long_ time.” 

Laura pretended to think it over. “I don't know Carm, Gran really isn't getting any younger…” 

“Ha ha, Cupcake,” Carmilla grabbed Laura's hand, “let's just try and have some fun?” 

“Fun is my middle name!”

“I thought it was ‘Eileen’--” 

“Look, _funnel cake!”_

Between Laura and two eight year olds, Carmilla was surprised that they had enough for all of them. And she was more surprised at how much fun Ell and Danny seemed to be having when their date was being interrupted by twins. Danny even absent mindedly grabbed Ell’s hand when they sat down at a picnic table to eat, and Ell looked at Carmilla out of the corner of her eye. 

Carmilla responded with a thumbs up. 

“Do you think you could have funnel cake on the menu?” Laura asked when they started walking again, wiping powdered sugar off her face with her sleeve. 

“Well, I don’t hate the idea,” Ell answered, “I mean, I don’t want to do anything without Perry’s permission, but...funnel cake pie definitely _sounds_ good, Carm.”

“I'll think about it,” Carmilla answered. 

“Do you know what you're going to do now that you're the owner, Ells?”

“I have no idea,” Ell admitted, “I think right now I'm going to focus on making sure it stays open.”

“Hey Ell, if you own the diner, does that mean we can get free ice cream?” Tucker asked. Ell laughed. 

“Um, Tuck, I don't know if that'd be good for business.” She let Annie back down. “Okay, here's the pony ride.” 

“I'm going to grab ice cream,” Danny said, “Ell, you want any?”

“I'll come with you! Um, guys, can you watch the twins for a second?” 

“Sure!” Laura answered, before Carmilla could object. Ell thanked her and she and Danny walked away to get ice cream. 

“Don't look at me like that,” Laura said. 

“This is a date for us too, you know.” 

“But look at how happy they are!” 

Danny was leaning in, whispering something in Ell's ear. Ell looked away to order their ice cream, still keeping a hand on Danny's arm. 

“Give me a second,” Ell said, walking back. “Hey guys, I got you both ice cream.”

“Ell, you're the best!” Laura exclaimed, grabbing a vanilla cone. Carmilla frowned. 

“What do you want?”

“I can't just be nice?” 

Carmilla looked at her. Ell sighed. 

“...Can you guys keep an eye on Tucker and Annie while Danny and I go on the Ferris wheel? They're afraid of heights.” 

“I'll do it. Carm?” 

Ell put her hands together and looked at Carmilla pleadingly. 

“...Lord help Danny when she has to deal with the puppy dog pout,” Carmilla groaned, “fine.” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Ell grabbed Danny, chattering excitedly. Danny shook her head, smiling softly when Ell pulled her in the direction of the ferris wheel. 

“So...watching kids,” Carmilla said, “how hard can it--” 

“Hey! HEY!” 

“-- _what?”_

Tucker and Annie were shoving each other near the front of the line. When Tucker grabbed Annie’s shirt and started pulling, Laura held up her hands. 

“Oh my gosh we need to do something! Uh, guys--” 

“Both of you, COOL IT!” 

The twins froze. Carmilla grabbed them both by the collar. 

“Step away from each other, come on. Want to tell me why you were turning the fairground into a WWE match?” 

“...I was in the line first, but Annie tried to go in front of me,” Tucker huffed. 

“Not true! I was here _first!_ Tucker is just mean!” 

“Nuh-uh--” 

“ _No.”_ Carmilla said firmly. 

Tucker and Annie looked at her. 

So did Laura. 

“First of all, Tucker, you are a boy, you shouldn’t grab a girl _ever._ Okay?” 

“But--” 

“No ‘buts.’ There is never a good reason to hurt a girl. You’re a guy, you better learn that now. Got it?” 

Tucker scuffed his shoe in the dirt and mumbled, “yes, Carmilla.” 

“And you,” Carmilla knelt down and looked at Annie, “need to apologize for calling your brother mean.” 

“But he--” 

“I don’t _care._ Both of you apologize right now.” 

Tucker looked at Annie and mumbled, “sorry, Ann.” 

“Sorry, Tucker.” 

“Great.” Carmilla stood back up. “Now, you have ten seconds to decide who gets to ride the pony first or neither of you go.” 

Carmilla started counting down until Tucker said, “Annie can go cause I hit her!” 

“Good. Wait behind her.” 

Carmilla apologized to the worker, helping Annie onto the pony. Laura was staring, and Carmilla asked, “what?” 

“I thought you were terrible with kids!” 

Carmilla walked back to stand next to her. “Uh, yeah?” 

“You handled that like a pro.” 

“I just stopped them from killing each other.” 

“Yeah, like a pro.” 

Carmilla shrugged. Laura gently wrapped her hands around Carmilla's waist. 

“It was actually kind of attractive.” 

Carmilla's eyes immediately widened. 

_“Really?”_

She ran her fingers through Laura's scalp, foreheads touching. Laura smiled. 

“Uh, yeah. Who doesn't love a woman who can handle kids?” 

“Well, as long as you don't expect me to start having them anytime soon…” 

“Oh, no. That's not part of the plan for awhile.” 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “‘The plan?’” 

“Yeah. Married with my first child by thirty. Sure my plate would be a little full with my career and everything, but I don't want to have them too late.” 

She said this so matter-of-factly that Carmilla _had_ to laugh. “So when were you going to let me in on the plan?” 

Laura shrugged. “Probably after I finished my residency. But I mean...you know, obviously plans can change. They’ve changed before.” 

Carmilla kissed her. “Let’s take a raincheck on that, huh?” 

Laura laughed. “Yeah. _Probably_ a little soon to be talking about that.” 

They stood like that until Tucker and Annie finished, running back to them. Laura let Tucker grab her pant leg, and Annie grabbed the bottom of Carmilla’s jacket. 

“Come on guys,” Carmilla said, “we need to go find your sister.” 

Laura put a hand over her eyes to see through the glare of the sun. “Yeah, I can see the ferris wheel over that way. It’s not that far.” 

“Carmilla, can I ride on your shoulders?” Annie asked. 

“Why…?” 

“Because Danny and Ell let me sometimes!” 

Carmilla frowned for a second. “I’m not Wonder Woman like your sister. I still don’t know how Ell is able to do it...” 

“Besides, I thought you both were afraid of heights,” Laura pointed out with a smirk. 

“Yeah, but we trust Ell and Danny,” Tucker said, and pointed out, “plus Carmilla isn’t _that_ high.” 

Laura started to laugh. 

“Stop laughing, Cupcake, you’re shorter than me!” 

“Okay, okay,” Laura promised. When they got to the exit of the ride to wait for Ell and Danny to get off, Laura gave Tucker a fist bump while Carmilla was looking out for them.

“I don’t see them yet,” Carmilla said, putting Annie down, “I don’t think their car or whatever those things are called is down yet-- _okay_ nevermind there they are.” 

Carmilla’s mouth dropped a little, and Laura craned her neck to get a better look to see what had caused it. Danny and Ell had their eyes closed, Danny cradling her cheek as she kissed her softly.

“Oh you’ve got to be--hold on. _”_ Carmilla whistled sharply. Ell’s eyes shot open, and she squeaked, breaking the kiss.

“Guys! Um, thank you. For watching Tucker and Annie--” 

“We’re blocking the exit; we should move,” Laura said, trying not to look too happy for them. 

“Right. Um. Right.” 

Danny looked much less embarrassed than Ell did, grabbing Ell’s hand when they walked out. “Hey guys, did you have fun riding the horses?” 

“Are you and Ell in love?” Tucker interrupted. Ell’s hand covered her mouth. She looked at Danny. 

“Oh. Uh, well--” 

“We haven’t decided yet,” Danny interrupted, “but we like each other a lot and sometimes we’ll kiss each other now.” 

“You can be our real sister now!” Annie exclaimed, hugging Ell around the legs. Ell patted her on the head. 

“I’ve _already_ been your sister, guys,” she laughed. 

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Ditching the twins so you can make out with your date on a ferris wheel. _Smooth,_ Ell.”

“That is _not_ what happened!” Ell answered defensively, “it just--we were talking and it just kind of ended up--but that isn’t _why_ we did it--Danny?” 

Danny was grinning.

“Oh my God, you did it so you could--could _put the moves_ on me or something?” 

“Look, I won’t lie, I was kind of _hoping--”_

Ell hit her lightly on the arm. 

“You are horrible and I should end this date right now,” Ell grumbled. 

Danny pretended to pout. Ell frowned, but as she picked Annie up, she leaned in to give Danny a quick kiss. 

“Yes, yes, you’re both adorable,” Carmilla said, “but we need to get back for the contest.” 

“You’re just jealous,” Danny shot back. 

Carmilla grabbed Laura’s hand, raising it. Both of them looked at Danny and Ell pointedly. 

“...Okay, fine, let’s just go to the contest.” 

***

“Carmilla, don’t worry, you’ve _got this.”_

Laura was rubbing Carmilla’s shoulders, while Carmilla rolled her eyes. 

“Cupcake, this isn’t a sport. I already put the pie on the table. I am literally not doing _anything._ ” 

“I know, but I’m nervous. I have to do something with my hands.” 

Carmilla sighed. She guessed a massage was not something to complain about. 

“I just hope the judges like apple.” 

“Carm, relax, who doesn't like apple?” 

“Says the woman so nervous she has to give me a massage.” 

“...Touché.” 

“And where are Ell and Danny? How long does it take to use the bathroom--” 

Ell chose that moment to walk up to them. She smiled at them both nervously. 

“Hey, Carmilla. Are you ready? Nervous at all?” 

“Well, you're not helping. What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.” 

Ell ran a hand through her hair. “Okay. Um. So I was walking back with Danny when I noticed a sign for the contest.” 

“And…?” 

“It's sponsored by the Winn-Dixie Supermarket of Lustig County. So, um, don't freak out, but I saw one of the judges and--” 

The host of the event started speaking and Carmilla looked away from Ell to listen. He went through the usual welcoming speech about how excited he was that everyone was there. Then he went into the rules. 

Then he introduced the three judges. 

“...And lastly, the manager of our local Winn-Dixie supermarket, Miss Lilita Morgan!”

Carmilla sucked in a breath. Ell immediately stood next to Laura, running Carmilla's shoulder.

“Carmilla, don't freak out, you'll be fine. If I can survive my grandfather, this is nothing.”

Laura almost asked who it was, but the resemblance was too strong to be a coincidence. 

Lilita Morgan had the same sharp features and dark eyes. She dressed a little nicer, and she carried herself more professionally as she walked up and down each row of tables, but Laura could easily see Carmilla as that woman in ten years. 

“Carm, that's your mother?” Laura asked. 

She was gripping the tablecloth so hard her knuckles had turned white. “Yes.” 

“Carm, deep breaths,” Ell mumbled. 

Laura did not know very much about her mother other than she taught Carmilla how to bake, she was divorced, and they didn't speak. Seeing how upset seeing her made Carmilla, Laura thought she knew enough. 

“Babe,” Laura said softly, rubbing Carmilla's back, “it's okay.” 

Carmilla sucked in a breath, then exhaled, staring down at the tablecloth. “Fine. Let's just get this over with.”

Miss Morgan was looking down at a clipboard as she tasted each pie, marking people off. Laura could see the exact moment she realized Carmilla's name was on the list; her head snapped up, looking around until she saw her. 

They locked eyes before Carmilla looked down again. 

“You're both not in the contest. Ell, go wait with Danny in the audience. It's okay. You too, Laura--” 

“I'm not leaving if you don't--” 

“Laura, I love you, but I don't think I am ready for you to meet her.” 

Laura tried not to feel a little hurt. “...Okay. Good luck.” 

She gave Carmilla a quick kiss on the cheek before, hesitantly, walking away with Ell. 

Carmilla wasn't sure what to expect when the judges walked up to her table. Her mother looked surprisingly calm, smiling at Carmilla and asking:

“Well Miss Karnstein, do you have your recipe card?” 

She fished it out of her pocket. “Here.” 

“An apple pie,” one of the judges said, “a very classic choice.” 

“Well, I happen to think you can't beat the classics. Besides, I made sure to put my own touch on it.” Carmilla cut a slice for each of the judges. She caught Laura's eye in the audience, smiled, and added, “I call it ‘'Mile High Hollis Apple Pie.’” 

They each took a bite. All three of them hummed in appreciation at the taste. Miss. Morgan smiled wistfully down at her plate. 

“You are really talented, Miss Karnstein.” 

Carmilla shrugged. “Baking runs in the family.” 

“I'm sure your family is proud.” 

She looked like she wanted to say more, but bit her lip, crossing Carmilla's name off the list and walking to the next contestant. 

***

“We have our winners!” 

Ell and Laura were on either side of Carmilla, each holding her hand, crossing their fingers with their free one. 

“Third place, contestant twenty with ‘The Key Lime to Happiness Pie!’” 

“That pie looks awful,” Ell said, “yours was better.” 

“Thanks, Ell.” 

“Second place, contestant fifteen, with her recipe ‘It’s the Great Pumpkin Pie!’” 

“Not even a question, yours was better,” Laura said. 

“...Then why is your mouth watering?” 

“I’m thinking about yours!” 

Carmilla rolled her eyes. 

“Before I announce first place, I want to make it clear that it was an incredibly difficult decision.” 

“Don’t you just hate when people take forever? I wish he’d just announce it already,” Ell said to herself. 

“Laura, Cupcake,” Carmilla said softly, “you’re kind of cutting off my circulation.” 

“...Sorry. Sorry.” Laura slackened her grip just a touch. 

“But we don’t want to keep you waiting any longer, so...our grand prize winner--contestant thirty five with her recipe, ‘Mile High Hollis Apple Pie!’” 

“YES!” 

Laura grabbed Carmilla and practically dipped her when she gave her a celebratory kiss; Ell just kept jumping up and down, shouting, “WE WIN! WE WIN! I MEAN CARMILLA WINS! WE _WIN!”_

Danny ran up to Ell and hugged her, lifting her into the air. “CARMILLA WON!” 

The judges were all looking at Carmilla patiently and with some confusion. 

“Uh--babe--I got to accept the check--you’ve got to let me go--” 

“Right, right, sorry.” 

Laura let go. Carmilla dusted herself off, walking up to the judges. She grabbed the giant check from them, smiling for the cameras that were taking pictures for the local paper. 

“Congratulations, Carmilla.” 

Carmilla looked at her mother. She was holding the first place ribbon out to her, smiling. She grabbed it. 

“Thank you.” 

She pinned it to herself, giving another thumbs up for the reporters. “SILAS REPRESENT!” 

Laura, Danny, Ell, and the twins clapped, shouting back, “SILAS! SILAS! SILAS!” 

“If you’ll all excuse me, I need to go cash this bad boy.”

Carmilla strode back to her friends, still holding the check. Laura grabbed it from her. 

“Twenty-five thousand. _Twenty-five_ thousand dollars. Carm, I am so, _so_ proud of you! I knew you’d win!” 

“Thanks, Laura.” 

“And who suggested apple pie?” 

Carmilla sighed. “You did.” 

“I told you!” 

Carmilla smiled. They started walking; Carmilla wasn’t in the mood for giving interviews. “First thing we’re doing is going to dinner.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Ell exclaimed. 

Danny patted Ell’s hand. “Uh, Ells, babe…” 

Ell turned red. “Riiiiight, you guys probably just meant the two of you--wait, did you just call me ‘babe?’” 

Danny shrugged, smiling shyly. 

“Can we get ice cream now that Carmilla has lots of money?” Tucker asked, pulling on Danny’s sleeve. 

“Tucker, do you ever think about anything but ice cream--” 

“Excuse me?” 

It was so quiet the three of them almost didn’t hear it. Carmilla turned around. 

“...You’re following me? Kind of creepy.” 

Ell’s reaction reminded Laura of the way Danny reacted to Vordenberg. She moved closer to Carmilla, frowning a little. 

“Hello, Mrs. Karnstein.” 

“Oh, well, it’s Morgan now,” she answered, then glanced at Carmilla. “Although that’s hardly important. Really, hardly important.” 

“That’s right, it isn’t,” Carmilla said. 

“Carmilla, can I talk to you?” 

“Miss Morgan, I don’t think Carmilla wants to talk to you,” Ell put her hands on her hips and looked at Carmilla. “Do you?” 

Carmilla bit her lip. “...Guys, I’ll meet you at the entrance.” 

“Are you sure--” 

“Ell, I’m sure. Can you grab my check for me?” 

Ell looked at Danny, who shrugged. She took her hand, and with one more look back at Carmilla, they both started to walk back. Laura touched Carmilla’s arm and whispered, “I’ll see you,” before kissing Carmilla quickly on the cheek and walking away. 

Carmilla stared at her mother. 

Miss Morgan stared back. 

“...So is this what you followed me to do, because if that’s it I’ll just go.” 

“No. No, it isn’t. I just wanted you to know...I wasn’t a tie breaker. They didn’t know you were my daughter. You won because you are an amazing baker.” 

“Well, thanks for letting me know Miss Morgan--” 

“Don’t do that!” She snapped. “Carmilla, I know I have made some mistakes with you, but you know that isn’t fair.” 

Carmilla swallowed. “...Fine, Mom, what do you want?” 

“I just wanted to talk to you. It has been a long time since you’ve spoken to me. Did you get my Christmas card?” 

“Must have gotten lost in the mail.” 

Carmilla turned and Miss Morgan put a hand on her shoulder. “Carmilla, I am begging you; just talk to me--” 

“And say what?” Carmilla jerked away. She walked closer, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper to avoid attracting attention from the crowds of people around them. “You know why I won’t talk to you and what, you thought helping me win a contest was going to guilt me into giving you attention? Money isn’t going to fix what you fucked up.” 

“Then tell me what I need to do,” she answered, copying Carmilla, “I don’t know what you want from me.” 

“How about an apology?” 

“For what?”

“‘For what?’” Carmilla shook her head. “God, you still can only think about how much better off you are. How about forcing me to practically live at my friend’s house to get away from you and Dad yelling all the time?” 

Miss Morgan sighed. “I’m sorry I needed to divorce your father, Carmilla. I am sorry I did something dumb when I was sixteen and I married someone I hardly knew because I had no choice. I’m sorry I didn’t make better decisions. Does that make you happy?” 

“I’m sorry I was a bad decision,” Carmilla answered softly. Miss Morgan looked taken aback. 

“No, Carmilla, I never said--” 

“I am sorry that I forced you into a shitty marriage. I am so, so sorry I am the worst mistake you’ve ever made, Mom.” 

She shook her head. “You’re putting words in my mouth.” 

Carmilla balled her fists. “You told me that I acted like my father and that scared you. Do you know how fucked up that is? To say that about my father? About me?” 

She didn’t answer. 

“And you act like Dad being around was the only reason you weren’t mother of the year. You weren’t doing much better after he left. You were barely doing anything. He left and you might as well have been gone too. So excuse me if I’m not that sympathetic to your pleas for attention.” 

Miss Morgan softened a little, looking down at the grass. “You’re not wrong.” 

Carmilla blinked. “You’re right. I’m not.” 

“Can we sit?” 

It was a weird request; one that threw Carmilla off balance. “Mom, it’s a crowded fairground.” 

“I don’t care, this feels like something we should have sitting down and I don’t want to go looking for a place.” 

She sat down cross legged in the grass, ignoring the people having to walk around her; Carmilla joined her. 

“If you really don’t want to talk to me, Carmilla, you would have left by now. So I’m going to take a chance and hope that it means you haven’t given up on me yet.” 

Carmilla huffed. Miss Morgan ignored her. 

“Thaddeus always had problems,” she explained, “he was twenty and running around with a sixteen year old girl, for starters. Really should have tipped me off when he couldn’t get a girl his own age.” 

“I’m not seeing the point here. I know he was bad for you.” 

“He drank,” she continued, “he would yell, and he’d get so angry...you have to remember how angry he could get. Remember, once he even broke a plate?” 

Carmilla bit her lip. “I dropped one of his guitars. I was twelve. Then he stormed out of the house.” 

“Once when you were older,” she raised her hand, “he grabbed my wrist so hard it left a bruise. It was the first time he’d ever gotten so angry he hurt me. I didn’t just leave him for me, Carmilla, I did it because I was afraid he would end up hurting you.” 

She leaned over to grab Carmilla’s hand. “But then I was so bitter. And you started acting out, and how could you not, with the way we’d been setting an example? That’s what I meant, when I said it scared me, honey. I was afraid you had his temper. That was wrong. I’m sorry.” 

Carmilla pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap. “You should have tried harder.” 

“I should have.” 

“You wanted to cut everything about him out of your life, and I’m half of him. I look like him. I act like him sometimes.” 

She nodded. “You do. But all the best parts. You’re passionate like him, but you use it for good things. You’re not the worst mistake I ever made, honey,” she put a hand on her cheek, “you’re the only _good_ thing I’ve done.” 

Carmilla looked down at her lap. “...Well, you made good pie,” she mumbled. Miss Morgan laughed. 

“Yes, I guess, but you make it better. A plain old apple pie beat all those other fancy flavors. You know it was unanimous?” 

“Should have known you’d be involved in a pie making contest.” 

“I convinced Winn-Dixie to help sponsor it. I am so, so proud of you. Um,” she played with her fingers, “that girl--” 

“Laura. My girlfriend. She’s a medical student in New York.” 

Carmilla’s mother whistled. “That is impressive. I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. Rebecca and I were convinced we’d be in-laws.” 

“Yeah, Ell was too. We worked that out.” 

“Poor girl. How is she?” 

“With Danny now.” 

_“Danny?_ Since when?” 

“Yesterday, after she found out she owns the diner.” 

“Ell owns the diner?” 

“It’s a long, long story.” 

“You’ll need to fill me in. There’s so much I’ve missed.” 

“Yeah,” Carmilla looked at her, “there is.” She got up. “Mom, I need to go.” 

“Just--just wait,” she stood up, fishing in her pocket. “At least take my business card?” 

Carmilla stared at it, but hesitantly took it. 

“I’ll...see you around.” 

Miss Morgan moved in for a hug; Carmilla awkwardly pulled back and gave her a handshake instead. 

Still, it was progress. 

***

“Do you know what you’re going to do with the money?” Ell asked. 

Carmilla didn’t want to tell Laura about the card; she was sure Laura would encourage her to reach out. And who could blame her? Laura lost her mother. Of course she’d want Carmilla to have a relationship while she still could.

But she needed to tell someone, which was why after they got back home Carmilla decided to meet Ell in their old favorite meeting place in the woods behind Ell’s house. 

At two AM. 

Ell did not want to cut her date short and Carmilla didn’t want to leave Laura until she needed to, either. 

And Carmilla told her what had happened, to which Ell had replied, “cool,” and offered her a beer from the six pack she had brought, citing that they both needed a drink after the last couple of days they’d had. 

(Seriously, Ell really was the best friend she could have asked for.) 

“Of course I do,” Carmilla shifted a little; they were a little big for the rock they used to use as a fort when they were kids, but they made do. “I’m going to help you keep your diner open.” 

“Carm, we don’t need all your money,” Ell answered, “You can keep some of it. Most of it, even.” 

Carmilla uncapped her beer bottle. She handed it to Ell, who took a sip. “What else am I going to do with it?” 

Ell licked droplets of beer from her lips. She looked at her. “...How about move?” 

Carmilla’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, move?” 

Ell shook her head. “You should leave Silas, like you always wanted. You should be with Laura. If you’re ever going to get out, it has to be now.” 

“You’re telling me to leave? I’m a little offended.” 

Ell bit her lip. “Carmilla, I love you,” Ell answered, “I’ll always love you. But...things change. Things have to. And if they do, I want them to be changes that will make the people I love happy. Laura makes you happy, and you should go be with her.” 

Carmilla listened to the way the words ‘'I love you’ fell effortlessly from Ell's lips. It felt so easy, so devoid of emotional baggage that Carmilla couldn't help but shove Ell playfully. 

“I love you too, ya Cinnabon.”

“Well you love Laura more, so go! Go to New York. Get the crappy job as a waitress so you can live in a one room apartment. Eat real Juniors cheesecake. You have earned it.” 

Carmilla pretended to consider it. “Naw. I don't think I want to.” 

“You don't _want_ to?” 

“You know something? I wanted so badly to run away from here. Just like my dad ran off to Nashville. And my mom moved and got a new job. I let them believe that they ruined Silas for me. But you know what? I won't be like them. I'm not running. I'm leaning into it. As long as Laura wants to live here, I'm not leaving. And I know where I am spending every last penny of my money.” 

Ell smiled. “I think _I_ do, actually.” 

“Really?” 

Ell raised her bottle. “Ever consider going into business with me?” 

Carmilla looked at her in shock for a moment; then she grinned, clinking their glasses together. 

“I am now.” 


	30. It Only Takes a Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, bookmarking, kudo'ing, and commenting! Please check out my It Only Takes an Extra fic for more oneshots set in this verse, or visit me on my tumblr marzo2theletter if you want to talk about my headcanons for what happens! :D

It was obvious that Ell was not used to interacting with Perry as a business partner rather than an employee. But she was giving it her best shot. 

“...So, as you can see, reading it over, it's exactly what I said,” Ell explained, “Carmilla gets twenty-five percent, half my equity. An equal partner.”

Ell squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Perry adjusted her glasses, reading, before looking at them from across her desk. 

“I mean, considering all you've done, I think you deserve this Carmilla. Are you sure?” 

“I'm sure.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Actually, yes,” Ell said, “I wanted to talk to you about maybe...changing the name?”

Perry frowned. “You want to change the name of the diner?” 

“It's just that, you know, I think a name that's more personal than ‘'Silas Diner’ could maybe be a good idea. See, my suggested name change is,” Ell leaned over and tapped the appropriate paragraph, “right there.” 

Perry read it. “...Perry's.” She looked at them. “You want to rename the diner ‘Perry's?’”

“It's yours,” Ell answered, “no matter how much you own, it came from your family. And I think that’s really important.” 

“Consider it a gesture of goodwill,” Carmilla added, “I just want to keep making my recipes and Ell doesn't really want to take anything over.” 

“I'm not my grandfather,” Ell finished, “I'll follow your lead. I promise. This was just...you know, an idea--” 

Perry slid the contract back to her. “We signed while you were talking,” she answered, smiling. Ell blinked. 

“...Oh. Okay. I’ll stop being convincing then.” 

LaFontaine held their hand out to Carmilla. “Hey, new partner.” 

Carmilla shook their hand warmly, getting up. “Same to you.” 

Ell practically jumped out of her seat. “Oh my gosh, Perry, thank you; I promise you won't be disappointed--” 

The air was squeezed out of her when Perry gave Ell a tight hug. 

“I'm sorry,” Perry said. 

“I--I mean, it's okay Perr, my ribs are a little bruised, but it's still a nice hug?”

Perry let go, smiling sheepishly. “No, that isn't what I meant--although, sorry for that too, dear--I mean for what I said before. You do care, you have been a wonderful employee, and you will be an even better business partner.” 

Ell smiled. She grabbed Perry again for an even tighter hug. “I’m so happy! Don’t worry, I forgive you! Come on, Carmilla, let’s go and tell everyone it’s official.” 

Ell bounced a little on the balls of her feet when she said it. Carmilla couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. 

“Alright, _partner,_ let’s go.” 

Carmilla nudged Ell teasingly. She took a deep breath. “Right. This is the first time I’m really...talking to them as an owner, though.” 

“I’ll help you.” 

Carmilla threw the door open, stepping outside and proclaiming, “WE’RE IN CHARGE OF YOU NOW!”

“Carm. What the heck!” 

Laura was waiting outside with the others, and she rushed forward to kiss Carmilla and give her a hug. Ell went to Danny, reaching up to gently bump foreheads with her before looking at everyone. 

“Hi guys. So Carmilla and I have been kind of missing the past few days, because, well...you know, I’m sure Perry filled you all in on the whole situation with the diner, here. So...as of this moment, Carmilla and I have become equal partners with Perry and LaFontaine. I hope that’s, um, okay with all of you?” 

_“Okay?_ Carmilla as a boss? That’s gonna be awesome!” Elsie looked at Kirsch and they fist bumped. 

“Perry is still functionally in charge,” Carmilla said, rolling her eyes, “guys, nothing is changing that much. Mostly this is just an excuse for me to spend all my time baking instead of waiting tables--” 

“Oh, sure, leave me,” Betty interrupted, “I see how it is.” 

“We’ll hire more people, Betty,” Ell assured her, “I promise. And,” Ell looked at Carmilla, “I’m sure she has no problem helping out until we afford to get replacements.” 

“That wasn’t part of the deal...but fine,” Carmilla finished, unable to say no to the look Ell was giving her. 

“Well, at any rate, the four of you need to stand together,” Betty continued, “I brought my camera!” 

“Oh, you’re right!” Ell exclaimed, “Carmilla, come over here!” 

Danny looked disappointed when Ell pulled away, and she looked back with a lingering touch on Danny’s arm before grabbing Carmilla, pulling her alongside Perry and LaFontaine, who had since walked out. 

“Alright guys, give me some room,” Betty said, holding her camera up, “just...okay LaFontaine, can you and Ell stand closer together...okay.”

“Smile!” 

“Cinnabon, you know I don’t smile.” 

“Pretend you’re on a date with Laura.” 

Carmilla smiled. 

Betty took the picture. 

***

The night before Laura had to leave, everyone threw her a party at the diner. 

Carmilla had led her back, claiming she’d forgotten something and wanted Laura to come with her. As soon as she stepped inside, everyone was waiting for her. 

“SURPRISE!” 

“AH!” 

Laura practically jumped out of her shoes, calming down when she realized what was happening. Her hands flew to her mouth. “You _guys,_ this is so nice!” She looked at Carmilla. “Did you plan this?” 

“Uh, duh.” 

“Carmilla also made this pie for you,” Danny added, holding it up in front of her, “so come on, let’s eat!” 

Everyone cheered. Laura felt herself start to tear up a little. She sat down at the nearest table and Danny set the pie down. Perry cleared her throat. 

“Alright everyone--one, two, three!” 

_“For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny!”_

Ell held a pie cutter out to Laura, smiled, and whispered, “...not even me.” 

Laura mouthed ‘thanks’ before grabbing it. Carmilla sat down next to Laura, grabbing her free hand. When Laura sliced into the pie, everyone cheered again. 

“We _also_ have one more thing to show you,” Betty added, “I mean it’s actually more for Carmilla, but you’re her girlfriend so you’ll be happy for her and shit. Ta-da!” 

Betty reached into a bag at her feet and pulled out the picture she had taken, now in a black wooden frame. Ell clapped delightedly, and Carmilla smiled. 

“Not bad, Betty. You got my good side.” 

“Not an easy feat, let me tell you,” Betty answered, “but I didn’t get accepted into Princeton for nothing.” 

“Hey,” Laura warned, “no making fun of my girlfriend. Only I can do that.” 

Carmilla nodded curtly. “What she said aaaaand _wait, hey who said you could_.” 

“Come on, let’s hang it up on the wall!” LaFontaine said. Betty and LaFontaine went to do that while everyone else grabbed pie slices. Laura took a bite of hers. 

“For the record, I am obviously allowed to make fun of you,” Laura said, “that’s one of the perks of dating you.” 

“I wasn’t told about this perk, _shortstack.”_

“Jerk,” Laura answered, taking another bite of her pie. Carmilla wiped some cream off the corner of her mouth, momentarily distracted by how cute she was. 

“Cutie pie,” Carmilla answered with a smirk. Laura groaned. 

“Wait, that’s not fair, you can’t call me cute after I call you a jerk!”

“Shut up.” 

“See, that’s much better...and _mmm,_ this pie is delicious. What do you call it?” 

Carmilla sighed a little. “‘Parting is Such Bittersweet Sorrow Pie,’” Carmilla moved hers around on the plate with her fork, “bittersweet chocolate pudding with a chocolate graham cracker crust and a crème fraîche topping.” 

Laura nudged her a little with her shoulder to lighten the mood. “‘Crème fraîche?’ You are such a _nerd.”_

Carmilla laughed. “I’m not the one going to medical school. _You’re_ the nerd.” 

Laura didn’t respond, instead choosing to kiss her. Carmilla kissed back; it wasn’t like they had a lot of time. 

“Okay guys, you can get a room.” 

Carmilla pulled away from Laura and threw Danny a dirty look. “Says the woman who is literally nuzzling my best friend’s cheek as we speak.” 

Danny had her arms wrapped pretty securely around Ell’s waist while she poured whiskey into a glass, cheek pressed against hers. She shrugged, not letting go. “Not my fault my new girlfriend has, like, the softest skin _ever.”_

“Blame me, I moisturize,” Ell added, “normally I’d be embarrassed, but Danny just said I was her girlfriend so I’m, like, _way_ too happy to care.” 

“Wait, I haven’t called you my girlfriend yet?” 

“Even if you did, it doesn’t matter. Still makes me happy.” Ell lifted her glass up to Danny’s lips so she could take a sip without letting go before Ell started drinking. “I brought enough for everyone, guys.” 

“Hey, Carmilla, come check out the photo!” Betty shouted, “Just finished hanging it up!” 

Carmilla got up. Laura followed her, both of them looking at the wall of memories chronicling the history of the business--first Perry’s grandparents posing with Laura’s grandmother, then Ell’s parents posing with Perry’s mom and dad...and then finally the four of them. 

“It’s a nice picture,” Carmilla said softly. Laura smiled at her. 

“How does it feel, Carm?” 

“What?” 

“Officially not being a waitress anymore. Just like I said you could do if you wanted to. See?” 

She guessed it was true. Carmilla had gone from waitress to partial owner. 

Which wasn’t really _that_ much of a change in her day to day life, not really...but it was the principle of the thing that held weight. She wanted to be more than a waitress and she was. 

(She already felt like she was with Laura there, but it was still nice to have that reminder while she was away.) 

“Like I feel bad for Betty,” Carmilla remarked. 

“Yeah, you better keep your promise and help me until we get more people on staff.” 

“There’s a ton of stuff we need to do,” Ell answered, “can we please just drink instead?” 

“I’m in!” Elsie exclaimed. 

“Guys,” Laura said, “thank you all _so much_ for this party...I’m really, really going to miss you. But I have to be on a plane tomorrow and,” she looked at Carmilla, “I really want to get some quality time with my girlfriend before I go--” 

“Say no more,” Betty said, “get out of here so we don’t have to catch you making out in the bathroom.” 

“That was one time!” Laura answered defensively, “can you please let that--” 

“Uh, we’re going to go,” Carmilla interrupted, grabbing Laura’s hand. 

“Wait, you better let us say goodbye before you leave!” 

Laura smiled. She walked over to each of them in turn, hugging Perry and LaFontaine, high-fiving Elsie and Kirsch, fist bumping Betty. Danny let go of Ell to practically pick Laura up off the floor. 

“Thanks for all your help, Hollis!” 

“Er--you’re welcome,” Laura managed to wheeze. Danny put her down. Laura looked at Ell. 

“...You’ll keep an eye on my girlfriend while I’m gone, right?” Laura said. Ell smiled. 

“Of course,” she answered cheerily. She grabbed Laura’s hand, leaning in a little. “Listen. No matter how...complicated things got on my end, Carmilla and I have always been family,” Ell whispered, “which I guess makes you family now, but if you end up breaking her heart…” Ell looked at Danny, “I mean I don’t think I could kill you, but I bet Danny could.” 

Laura swallowed. “Understood.” 

Ell nodded. She pulled Laura into a hug. “Gonna miss you, Hollis. Thanks for helping with, like...the will stuff.” 

“Of course.” 

Laura let go. When she and Carmilla walked out, Laura turned around and took one last look at the sign. 

“By the time you get back that sign is going to say ‘Perry's’ instead,” Carmilla remarked. 

It was. Because Laura _was_ coming back. 

“I can't wait to see it,” Laura answered, smiling at her, “come on. Let's go home.” 

***

“This feels really wrong,” Laura announced to the ceiling of her room, somewhat breathily. Carmilla answered in between suckling kisses down Laura's neck. 

“What? You've never complained about the way I kiss before--” 

“Not _that._ Having sex. In my mom's _childhood bed.”_

Carmilla shrugged. “I don't care.” 

“With my grandmother in the house.” 

“We can be quiet. Besides, it's after midnight. She's asleep. And _you_ were the one that didn’t want to leave after you finished packing.” 

“It's still _weird.”_

“...Are you saying you _don't_ want to--” 

“Are you insane of course I do I'll get over it.” 

Carmilla grinned. She raised her head, so she could slip off her shirt. “I'll try and distract you so it's easier, then.” 

Laura's jaw dropped. “That is _definitely_ distracting.” 

Since they started sleeping together, Carmilla had found it amusing, and kind of endearing, how Laura was the one with the experience but _still_ stared at Carmilla every time like a teenage boy. She moved so she was straddling Laura, hands sliding just barely under her tank top. 

“Good. You can touch too if you want, Cutie. I'm not a museum exhibit.” 

Laura smiled. She shifted so she was sitting up, leaning against the headboard. Her hands encircled Carmilla's waist, pulling their bodies closer together. 

“I want to go slow,” Laura whispered, hands skidding across her girlfriend's torso, lips just centimeters apart, “I really want to like...you know, make love to you one more time.” 

Carmilla groaned. “Really?” 

“What?” 

“‘Make love?’ Now _that's_ a mood killer.” 

Laura frowned. “What would you rather call it?” 

Carmilla bent in close to Laura's ear. “I'd rather be _doing_ it, not talking about it.” 

Laura licked her lips. “Well said.” 

She slid her hands up to run through Carmilla's hair, kissing her as deeply as she could. 

***

When they were finished--when Laura was laying on her side, fingers gently trailing down Carmilla's arm--Laura couldn't take it anymore. 

“I am going to miss you so goddamn much.” 

Carmilla smirked. “Swearing. Wow, you must be really serious.” 

“I _am._ I don't want to go.” 

Carmilla didn't know what to say; Laura already knew she didn't want her to go either. So instead she leaned in to kiss her. “I know.” 

“Can you promise me something?” 

“Anything, Laura.” 

“No matter what happens after I leave, please don't let that ruin this summer. I just...that's still my biggest fear, you know? That you're going to end up regretting this. I couldn’t live with that.” 

Carmilla smiled. She rested her chin on her hand. “I promise.” 

“Good. Because we’ve already had a lot of things, you know? We’ve had fireflies and whiskey and dancing and kissing and pie. We’ve definitely had a _lot_ of pie.” 

“Not to mention defeating corrupt capitalists,” Carmilla added. Laura laughed a little. 

“Yeah, we’ve lived through a pretty epic romance, haven’t we?” 

“And it’s going to be even better next summer,” Carmilla said. She put a hand on Laura’s cheek. “We are going to have next summer, Laura.” 

Her eyes were starting to droop, and Laura snuggled closer. Their legs were tangled together and Laura mumbled, “you know the old saying, right?” 

“What?” 

“‘Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.’” 

Carmilla’s brow furrowed. “Wait, isn’t that Dr. Seuss?” 

“Yes.” 

“You are quoting Dr. Seuss. Oh my God, why am I in love with a woman who quotes Dr. Seuss when we’re in bed together?” 

Laura kissed her. 

“... _Right._ That’s why.” 

Laura giggled a little, pulling the blanket back over them. 

***

Laura usually drove since Gran couldn’t, but Carmilla had insisted. After all, Laura seemed like she hadn’t had any sleep. When Laura pointed out that Carmilla got just as much sleep as she did, Carmilla said something to the effect of “I don’t care, just let me do this for you.” 

And Laura _was_ kind of tired, so she didn’t argue. Which was terrible. Because as soon as the car started moving, Laura didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep until she felt herself being gently shaken. 

“Cupcake, we're at the airport.” 

“What…? Oh. Wait, I fell _asleep?_ You should have woken me up!” 

“I wanted to,” Gran said, “but Carmilla thought you looked so nice she didn't feel right doing it.” 

Laura frowned, getting out of the car. There was a rotten feeling in her stomach that had started when they got up that morning, and it seemed to get worse the closer she got to boarding her flight. Carmilla was helping Gran pull her walker out of the trunk of the car, and then handed Laura her bags. 

“Cupcake, here.” 

“Thanks.” 

She didn’t have a free hand to hold Carmilla’s, which was disappointing, and did nothing to help. Gran was talking, trying to lighten the mood; even Carmilla was trying not to look too unhappy for Laura’s sake. 

“Laura, I hope you talked to Sherman again about you and Carmilla,” Gran said as Laura checked in, “he’s been calling me every day with ‘safety concerns’ about the town. I can’t keep hanging up on my son-in-law.” 

“I will,” Laura promised, “um...maybe you can skype with him one day, Carmilla? Just so he knows who you are.” 

“I want to, Laura, I really do, but I’m a little worried about him threatening me.” 

“He will not ‘threaten you.’” 

Gran looked at Laura. 

“...More than once. He will not threaten you more than once.” 

Laura checked in. She took a deep breath. The entire time, Laura couldn’t find it in her to say anything. But she finally turned around. 

“Gran,” Laura dropped her stuff and gave her a hug, “thank you for everything. I had such a great time this summer. I can’t wait to come visit again.” 

She smiled, hugging her tighter. “Laura, dear, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” she held her at arm’s length, “I don’t know if I’ve told you this yet, but when you told me you wanted to live here...well, I felt like I was getting my daughter back. Eileen would be so proud of you.” 

Laura bit her lip. She felt tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes. “I’m going to miss you. Spend lots of time with Carmilla.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course she will. Mrs. Cochrane is going to keep getting better so she can come back to the diner and watch me be a _literal_ boss.” 

“Oh, don’t even get me started on how proud I am of _you,_ honey. You and Ell are going to do great.” 

Laura and Carmilla looked at each other, and Gran cleared her throat. “I’m going to go find the ladies room.” 

“Wait, Gran--” 

“You both want a moment before you go and I’m giving it to you. Take it.” she held Laura’s hand for a moment. “Be good, Laura. I love you.” 

Laura watched her walk away. “...Carm, you know where the bathrooms are, right?” 

“I have her cell number even if I didn’t; don’t worry.” 

“Good.” Laura sighed. Carmilla had her hands in the pockets of the denim jacket she was wearing. “So I guess this is it?” 

“I mean, for _now._ Until we see each other again.” 

“Yeah. Um,” Carmilla bit her lip for a moment, “I was thinking, on the drive over here...you remember our first date, right?” 

“Of course I do. It’s the only date I’ve ever been on that involved breaking the law.” 

“Haha. But I mean, do you remember what I said when I was looking at the stars? That when I looked at them, everything just seemed so much...closer together?” 

Laura swallowed. “Yeah,” she said softly. 

“Give me your phone.” 

Laura looked at her suspiciously, but handed it over. “I thought you had my number?” 

Carmilla didn’t answer for a moment. She typed into it and handed it back. “Here. I set a reminder.” 

“For what?” 

“Us to talk every night,” Carmill answered, “every night you’re going to go outside, okay? And so will I. And every night,” Carmilla took Laura’s hand, lifting it up, entwining their fingers, “we will look up at the same stars _together._ Just like our first date. What do you say?” 

Laura leaned in to kiss her. She mumbled against Carmilla’s lips, “that sounds amazing,” before Carmilla pressed closer. 

“Okay, okay,” Laura said reluctantly, pulling away, “I’m going to miss my flight. Sorry.” 

Carmilla smiled wistfully. “It’s okay,” she said. She put her hands in her pockets again, then thought better of it, holding a hand out to her. “I’ll see you again soon.” 

She shook Laura’s hand, kissed her one more time, and hung back to watch Laura board. 

Laura looked down at her hand. Tinfoil. And a post it. 

_Carmilla and Laura Pie_

_New York Apple Cheesecake_

_Blackberry swirl_

_A perfect combination ;)_

_Love you,_

_Carmilla_

She had smashed it a little, but it still looked good. There was a crowd of people between them, but Laura stood on tiptoe, catching Carmilla’s eye. She lifted the slice a little. 

Carmilla mouthed back ‘love you’ and blew Laura a kiss. 

Laura was beaming. She finally turned and boarded the plane--but not before taking one last bite of Carmilla’s pie. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow marzo2theletter on tumblr for news about the fic--updates, extras, questions, you name it. I tag it all 'baking AU'.


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